#ynm x reader

[fairy-writes]

Would it be too much to ask for a William James Moriarty x Holmes sister reader? Like she's a travelling archaeologist/anthropologist who's a genius in the field and has found many artifacts and lost cities and can be a bit of an eccentric looney like her older brother Sherly but she's also incredibly kind to those in need and often donates her treasures to the less fortunate and even helps Sherly from time to time which is how he meets her and is impressed by her smarts and sarcastic wits. Also, a bit of a parkour junky likes to wear mens clothes tailored for her measurements and often wears her hair in loose buns or ponytails and loves riding horseback much to Mycroft's displeasure🤭

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Mildly sexist behavior from Mycroft? It is the 1800s after all.

Notes: So this was super fun to write! 

Fun fact! I took an archaeology class for my associate’s degree in criminal justice and highly recommend taking one to anyone in college! 

I actually took several anthropology classes (intro to anthro, bio anthro, and archaeology). I even considered switching my major to anthropology at some point! (I switched it to English lol)

PART TWO HERE

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Otis whinnies, and you reach forward from your place in the saddle to pat his neck.

“Easy, Otie, almost there.” You whisper to him and gently nudge him to turn down the familiar road of Baker Street. You could spot your brother’s flat from where you were at, an unfamiliar carriage parked in front. You frown briefly and then shrug. Sherlock could have whoever he liked over. 

But… he did promise to take you out on the town in celebration of your latest discovery. Did he forget?

No… He wasn’t the type to forget something like that. You had been exchanging letters for weeks about your coming home. 

A tall man was at the front of the carriage, tending to the horses. He had spiked black hair and a glove on one hand. He looks at you with skeptical eyes as you draw near and dismount your horse. The Cleveland Bay snorts, ruffling your hair as you smooth your hand up his snout and between his eyes. Then, you promptly tied his reins to the post outside 221B Baker Street and went up to the front door. 

The door knocker was more worn than you last remembered, with the shiny brass turning a glimmering gold color from all the hands touching it. You rap the door once, twice, then a third time, and wait, stuffing your hands in your trouser pockets. 

A young man opens the door, sandy blond hair combed neatly and brown eyes alight with curiosity. A grin breaks your face, and you step forward into his arms as he realizes just who is at the door.

“My dear John!” You shriek, and he chuckles, lifting you off your feet and spinning once in a circle before setting you down. 

“I thought you weren’t due back for another two weeks!” He replies excitedly, and you laugh gleefully. 

“We finished early! Anyhow, how’s Mary? Sherlock said you two were expecting!” You say and slap his shoulder good-naturedly. He ducks his head, a pink flush on his cheeks as he nods.

“She’s home at the mo. But yes, we’re expecting. The midwife thinks it’ll be a girl based on how she’s carrying.” He said, and before you could say any more, there was a noise at the top of the stairs. 

You turn, and your grin widens even more until your cheeks hurt. 

“Sherly!” You crow, and he bounds down the stairs to sweep you up in a bear hug. His boisterous laugh made your heart sing, and you buried your nose in his hair. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey. He must have been on a case. He squeezes you tight and sets you down. 

“I thought you were coming back in two weeks!” He exclaims, and you roll your eyes,

“So John said, I told you we finished early!” You tease, and it is then that you notice that there is someone else in the flat. 

He was tall, probably around your brother’s height. He had blond hair and deep scarlet eyes that studied you with interest. He was dressed in a brown suit with a crimson tie. A lord. That much is obvious.

Sherlock notices that you notice his friend and gestures to the man at the top of the stairs. 

“This is Liam! A mathematics professor at Durham University and a friend of mine who helps me on my cases.” He says proudly as “Liam” descends the stairs and approaches you. 

You stick out a hand and introduce yourself. His hand is smooth like you expected, as opposed to your calloused one. You had bandages littering your fingertips from blisters from shovels and tools. 

“William James Moriarty. I’ve heard stories about you.” His British lilt is proper and endearing. You feel your heart flutter and your ears burn. But you smile warmly nonetheless and give his hand a firm shake.

“As much as I’d like to say the same, Sherly has yet to tell me about you in his letters.” You direct the last sentence to your older brother in the same teasing tone as before. 

Sherlock rolls his eyes and punches your shoulder lightly while William watches on in amusement. 

“I got distracted!” Sherlock complains, and you break out into giggles. 

“I would love to hear some stories if you’re up to it.” William cut in gently before you, and Sherlock could start bickering. You brighten. A chance to tell stories of your work and not have someone get bored? It sounded like heaven!

That was how you got to where you were at the current moment. 

You were seated next to Sherlock at the Moriarty dining table, regaling them with a story of the most current dig you had been on.

“—and Egypt was absolutely smashing! It was so beautiful!” You say, waving your hands excitedly as you describe the tomb that had been uncovered. It had taken weeks to uncover everything, almost months. But oh so worth it. 

“Might I ask what you did with all the artifacts you found?” William inquires, and you hum as you sip at your wine. 

“Donated it all back to the locals. It’s the least I can do. Plenty of archaeologists steal their finds and bring them back to England to show in museums. I try and do the opposite.” You say and were pleased to see William nod in approval. 

At least someone shared your sentiment. 

You got a letter to your very old and very dusty flat a week after your return to England, summoning you to your eldest brother’s estate. You had been dusting and cleaning your furniture when the postman knocked on your door. You frown, brushing your pants on the seat of your trousers, and answer the door. 

The letter was short. 

Dearest sister, 

I have received news of your return to Egypt. I would like to have your company at the family estate for dinner to discuss business and your adventures. 

With best regards, 

Mycroft Holmes

A summons to the Holmes family estate that your oldest brother had inherited after your parents retired to the country. You look at the ceiling and groan, eliciting a funny look from the postman. 

This was going to be fun.

As soon as Otis realizes where you are, he tosses his head and tries to turn around. You tug the reins so he faces the right direction and nudge him into a walk down the road.

“Otie, I don’t want to do this either. But I’d rather not have Mikey send special forces after us or something.” You say to Otis, and when you reach the stables, Mycroft’s hired stable hand takes your beloved horse’s reins. “Take good care of him!” You nearly reprimand the stable hand who agrees and welcomes you back with ease. 

The maids welcome you in excitedly when you rap on the massive double doors, and you are ushered upstairs into the dining room. 

Mycroft was seated at the head of the table, where your father would be if he were here, and he stood to greet you. He offers a handshake, but you simply smile warmly and hug him tightly. He may have grated on your nerves, but he was still your brother. Mycroft stiffens and pats your shoulders awkwardly when you step back.

“As awkward as always, I see Mikey.” You said and took a seat at the table next to him like you did when you were kids. He clears his throat and calls for the kitchen staff to bring in the food. 

It wasn’t much, considering there were only two of you. But it was as extravagant as Mycroft always demanded it to be. 

“Would you like to change into dinner attire before we eat, sister dearest?” Mycroft says suddenly, just as you are about to dig into the delicious roast prepared by the staff of the household. You put your fork down and scowl.

“Don’t start with this, Mikey. You know I hate dresses.” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue. 

At least… he doesn’t until you are done with your meal and in his study, talking about your travels to Egypt. 

You down the rest of your whiskey and set the glass whiskey tumbler on the table between you two. 

“More whiskey?” He offers, and you shake your head.

“I want to be able to ride home after this.” You say and hold in a yawn. The excellent food combined with the fireplace blazing with a crackling fire is lulling you to sleep. 

Suddenly, Mycroft stands and walks in front of the fire, setting his own glass down on the mantle and turning to face you. 

“Might we talk some business?” He inquires, and immediately, your mood sours. 

So this was his end goal? Get you sleepy and drunk so you couldn’t ride home and were subject to his pleadings?

“I don’t want to hear it, Mikey.” You say and stand, holding onto the back of the wingback chair for a moment as the dizziness sets in. 

He scowls, 

“You are of perfect age. The season is just starting. You could still join in and find a potential suitor!” He tries, and you scrub at your face.

“I already told you I wasn’t interested in courting! I’m interested in—”

“Your work, I know. But what happens when the digs dry up and there’s nothing else for you to do? What will you do when you get too old for this?!” He snaps, and you whirl, steadying yourself with the chair as your anger flares. 

“It won’t dry up! There are thousands of years of history still to be discovered! Hundreds of thousands of cities and archaeological finds!” Your voice rises to a shout, and you hear distant footsteps as maids scurry away from you and your brother’s anger. 

This goes on for several minutes until Mycroft a bomb on you. 

“Mother and Father have decided. If you don’t find someone to court, they will no longer fund your excavations, and you’ll be stuck here with me.” 

You freeze, hands wound tightly in your hair, and argument dying on your tongue. 

“B—But that would mean—” Mycroft cuts you off gently and approaches, putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’d be stuck here until you find a husband—no more digs. No more artifacts. Not until you do as they and I ask.” Tears well up in your eyes, and you shrug off his hands violently and flee. 

Your boots pound against the hardwood floors, and you run outside where it has started pouring rain. Instantly, your clothes are soaked as you make it to the stables, dress Otis in his saddle and bridle, and swiftly mount his back. He tears out of the stables at a thundering gallop, and the stable hand barely dives out of the way to save himself from being trampled. 

Otis’s hooves dash against the cobblestone roads. You cling to his reins and hunch over his back as tears stream down your face and sobs wrack your body. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding? 

No one wanted to fund a woman on an archaeological dig! 

Much less one as young as yourself! 

You were screwed! Doomed to live as a housewife because that was society’s and your parent’s expectations of you!

Otis eventually comes to a halt, and you dismount, collapsing onto a bench, breathing hard as rain pours down your body. Your shirt sticks to your skin, and your trousers swim in water as you sit in a puddle on the bench. But you can’t bring it in you to care. 

A carriage rumbles to a stop before you, and you look up as the door opens. 

“Might I interest you in some shelter?” Comes a proper and endearing accent that you recognize. 

“William?” You sniffle, and he smiles, extending a hand. 

“If you’ll let him, Fred will handle your horse. How about you step inside the carriage, and we’ll take you back to the Moriarty estate.” He says over the rain. A young man with a blue scarf wrapped around his head gets off the front of the carriage and approaches. You hiccup and nod, handing Otis’s reins to the young man and accepting William’s hand into the carriage. He sheds his overcoat and offers it. 

It’s warm and heavy as you wrap it around your shoulders and sit down. Your boots squelch against the floor, and William knocks twice against the carriage's wall, and it starts moving once again. 

The Morairty estate is even grander than you remember, looming over you as the carriage stops by the front doors. You nearly slip in your haste to get inside and are taken up the stairs to one of the many bedrooms. 

“Draw a bath and get warm. I’ll have some clothes brought by. We can have a talk after you’ve collected yourself.” William says gently, and you nod, taking off his overcoat so he can have it back. He excuses himself, and you are left alone in the suite. 

The bath is nice and hot, and you let out a sigh as you shed your clothes into a pile on the floor and sink into the warm water. Your tears are drying, but your emotions are still raging like a rabid dog inside you.

How could they? 

Didn’t your family know archaeology was your passion? Your dream?! Of course, they did! You never shut up about it when you were but a little girl learning to play the piano! You babbled on and on about fossils and artifacts in between lessons until you were blue in the face!

It wasn’t long until you were done in the bath and dried off. As William had promised, some clothes were left on the bed. A button-down that looked like it might fit you, a pair of trousers that might be a bit too long, and a pair of undergarments. You tugged on the underwear and then the trousers, having to cuff them at the bottom so you didn’t trip. The shirt fit better than you thought so you pinned your hair out of your face and left the bedroom and down the hall. Hadn’t there been a sitting room just down the stairs? 

William was inside, stoking a fire with a poker, his back to you. He stood and turned when you rapped lightly on the entryway. His lips curled in a welcoming smile, and he gestured for you to take a seat. 

“Would you like some tea? I had Louis put the kettle on.” He said, and you nodded, sitting on the couch beside the fire.

“Thank you. For the clothes and… everything else.” You mumble, and he shakes his head,

“Don’t mention it. Sherlock mentioned you hated dresses.” He says and pours you a cup of tea.

It’s delicious. It warms you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your bare toes. You scuff them on the plush carpet as William sits across from you. His scarlet eyes are illuminated like glittering rubies in the oranges and yellows of the fire. They’re alive like a torch resides inside. 

“Now, might I ask why you were out in the rain?” William asks as soon as you’ve settled into your spot. You bite your lip and wonder if you can trust him with your problems. 

Sherlock trusted him well enough… 

Perhaps…

“I got into an argument with Mycroft. He said my parents will cut off my funding for excavations if I don’t find a proper husband.” You blurt, and he hums as he takes a sip from his cup. 

“I assume they’ve been funding your past archaeological escapades?” He says, and you nod.

“Correct. But that is going to change unless I get married.” You grumble, and he cocks his head to the side, setting his cup down on the tea table next to him and seemingly mulling something over. 

“This may be a bit forward, but I have a proposal. A business proposal, if you will.” He starts, and you narrow your eyes. A business proposal? You set your own cup down and cross one leg over the other. 

“Go on…” You say hesitantly, and he clasps his hands together as if working out a problem in his head. Sherlock did say he was a mathematics professor.

“I could marry you.” You inhale sharply and proceed to choke on your saliva. William half gets out of his chair to come to your aid when you finally get your coughing under control. 

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs, 

“I’ve done some research into you. You are spearheading the way in new archaeological techniques. You donate your finds back to the locals in need. And frankly, I find you fascinating. If we go ahead with this, you’ll have access to my brother Albert’s influence as well as the Moriarty name and fortune.” He says, and you sit back, stunned. 

“I could continue my work?” You say skeptically, and he nods. 

“Indeed. There’s no reason to stop you. I might ask for a lecture or two from you at Durham University. But that’s it. So…” He extends a hand for you to shake. “Have we reached an accord?”

You are speechless as possibilities run rampant through your brain. You’d be free from your parent’s influence as well as pleasing them. Though pleasing them was the last thing on your mind. Yes, you’d be married. But like William said… it was more of a business proposal…

You reach forward and shake his hand. His smile widens marginally as you speak,

“I accept your proposal.”

#william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty x y/n #moriarty x reader #mtp william #mtp william x reader #ynm william #ynm x reader #mtp x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #fairy writes

[kanroji-san]

Kidnapper: I have your partner!

William: What? But we don't have a partner

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

Sherlock: *who is already running towards exist* Oh shit, they have Y/n!

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot william #moriarty the patriot sherlock #mtp #mtp x reader #mtp william #mtp sherlock #ynm #ynm sherlock #ynm william #ynm x reader #william moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #sherliam #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #yuumori #moriarty x reader #mtp sherlock x reader #mtp william x reader

[lazyalani]

| William James Moriarty × [F!Reader]

| Into your arms

| angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, non canon mission, will's students are such sweethearts, they love him, angst with a happy ending, just feels, so much feels, like one swear word

| Summary: In which William's lover waits for him to come back after leaving for a mission without telling her it'll be a long one.

| Yuukoku no Moriarty Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

i'm out of my head

2 weeks.

It been exactly two weeks since you've last kissed your fiancee. Two since you've hugged him. Two weeks since you said 'I love you'. And two weeks since you've last seen him. Or his family.

You knew he wasn't just a professor. You knew his family weren't just normal nobles. You knew they were doing something behind the curtains, you didn't know what it was, you knew it was shady but you certainly didn't care.

Because you trust him.

You trust him enough to let him go missing for half a day doing god knows what. You trust him enough to pretend to be deaf when you hear them talking about things. You trust him enough to believe his words and stay clueless until he decides it's safe for you to know. You trust him enough to believe he'd keep you safe. You trust him enough to turn a blind eye to those blood that were certainly not theirs.

You trust him enough to stay out of their business.

But disappearing for two weeks? That was a new record. And it isn't a good one.

out of my mind,

You trust him with everything but disappearing for a week or two without a word, a trace, even a note, is out of the question.

The first two days were fine as it is. You were used to it. As long as he came back on the third day and you would spend time with each other like nothing happened it was fine. Until he didn't show up the next day. And the day after that. And then the day after. Then the next. And before you knew it, your fiancee, along with his family and friends, had gone missing for two weeks.

Scotland yard had been trying to trace them for a week. No, you hand't been the one to inform them. You didn't know what they were doing but you certainly suspect it was illegal, and you weren't stupid enough to get the yard on their tails and ruin whatever they were doing.

But William's students on the other had, claimed their professor hasn't come to the university for a week and decided to visit his house only to find it empty. And them being William's students, learning god knows what besides math, had asked vendors, shops, and houses that trailed towards the Moriarty Manod if they had seen their professor, to which none replied yes. So they had reported it to the yard.

Ofcourse, you, being his lover, were also questioned.

oh, i

Ofcourse, you feigned cluelessness, saying he had told you that they'd gone to a business trip, requiring them to be gone for a few days, and thought they had just extended or had an emergency as reason why they aren't back yet.

It made the yard back down for a bit, with a little help from Cheif Patterson, who you had seen a few times before, knowing he was involved with whatever your fiancee had. But when a day passed, even the Cheif could not get them down from the tons of requests from the university, students and professors alike, to find their professor. Well, William had surely made a great impression. As he always does.

The students had brought you gifts and visits, comforting you from the missing case of your fiancee. While you feigned being clueless, your distraught, concern, and broken heart hadn't been fake. While you were fine remaining clueless to what they have been doing and continue to do, it was tiring to have to worry everyday without an explanation.

if you let me i'd be

To worry if he's fine. To worry if he's injured. To worry if those blood are theirs. To worry if they had been caught. To worry of he had found another. To worry if he just made you his lover for the sake of not getting suspicions. To think so deep about everything because of everything.

To worry if he'd still come back alive.

out of my dress, and

So, you let yourself cry to your thoughts everynight. It was your only way of coping, besides seeing him smile and hearing his sweet words. And tonight was no exception.

You lean on your couch, rubbing your forehead, trying to sooth your headache with the tea he had gifted you from a trip. Letting a few tears fall. You knew it wouldn't help to sooth your headache, but you couldn't help it. Staring at the lit up candle beside you, the only source of light in this time of the night.

That candle reminded you of him. A kind of yellow with a tinge of orangey-red. A calm flame that could destroy everything around it when let loose and without eyes looking after it.

You wonder if you had let yourself burn to him.

into your arms tonight

But then again, he wouldn't let you burn. Hence, why he had you remain clueless and unknowing of what was truly happening behind those sweet smiles and happy family gatherings. You wonder if he thinks himself of selfish, keeping you despite knowing the dangers of being with you. But you didn't mind.

You didn't mind him being selfish. You didn't mind him keeping you. But still, it's tiring, exhausting, to let your heart race and almost feel it explose from worry. To let your eyes burn with tears everytime he's been gone for more than half a day only to return with blood. Despite the blood not being his, the thought of it being someone else's and William getting caught didn't help ease your fears.

Perhaps you did let yourself burn.

The continous death of the nobles synching with your lover's disappearances and the blood on his cloak, on his blade, on his gloves, on his face, you had decided to turn a blind eye.

You had fallen low, continuing to trust him despite all the blood on his hands, on his family's name, but it was William, wasn't it? The reassuring gazes and words he has left you had you assured everything was fine, that everything was for the best, that was the only thing he had left you, anyway.

It was better than nothing.

i'm lost without it

Better than staying the all and nothing fiancee who had everything except her lover's honest words from behind the curtains. It wasn't a big knowledge, it almost didn't help, but it was something. So you take it.

But it still didn't help the ache on your head, it didn't help the tears that continue to fall down from your eyes.

You just wanted him back to you. You just want to feel him in your arms again. You just just to feel his loving gaze. To hear his sweet and wise words. To feels his arms encase around you. To feel his lips on your skin.

Oh, the poor fiancee, always waiting.

it feels like i'm always waiting,

Knocks on your door resounded through your manor. You didn't know why, but it made your heart race.

You wiped the tears on your face and forced yourself to stand up and move towards the door.

You opened the door, looking down on the ground. It was disrespectful, but you couldn't let anyone see the pathetic state you were in. "How may I help you?" You winced at the sound of your voice, raspy, broken, cracked.

The person infront of you didn't answer, so you grimaced and rubbed your temples, closing your eyes, looking up, letting the person see your disheveled and pathetic state. And letting them know it wasn't a good time to receive pranks or bad news.

"What brings you here?" The person still did not answer, testing your patience. Your temper was fading, getting short from everything.

"Please just--" You couldn't finish your words, suddenly feeling lightheaded as you felt yourself fall forward.

The person infront of you catched you in their arms, and that's when you only smelt the familiar cologne.

Your eyes flew open at the familiar smell, swelling up with tears again. You forced yourself to look up despite feeling the pain in your head soreading everywhere.

"W-Will--"

Your fiancee carried you in his arms, lifting the back of your knees to his left hand and supporting your shoulders with the other.

i need you to come get me

You bursted out crying again, worsening the pain, but you couldn't care less. He was back.

Your lover is finally back.

He's here. Holding you in his arms, holding you close.

He closes the door with his shoulders and locks it with his elbow, carrying you upstairs and tucking you to your bed.

You reached up to him, lifting up your hand. "W-William..." You were asking him to get in bed with you.

He takes of his cloak and gloves, revealing the commoner clothes he was wearing. Rugged, almost dirty, but it was not the time to care. Infact, when it's him, you can't seem to care about anhthing else.

out of my dress, and

He places his hand on your forehead. "You have a fever, love." The first time you hear his voice in what feels like years.

It doesn't help again, you cried harder, hearing that soothing, gentle voice and sickly sweet nickname of his.

"You're here, you're back, you're finally back-- I--"

He kisses your forehead. "Yes, darling, I'm here, I'm here. Please, take a rest."

"Can you hold me, please?"

"Ofcourse." Always. He wants to add, but he, like you, was also desperate to hold you.

He gets in bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms and letting you tuck your head on his chest. He knows crying would only make you feel worse, but just this time, he lets you, for a moment.

into your arms tonight

You cry in his arms for what seems to be forever, until he takes your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumb and kissing your eyes, your forehead, your lips, your cheeks, your face, while whispering countless apologies.

"I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to disappear so suddenly and make you worry like that." The concerned and apologizing gaze in his eyes matched his apologies.

You stopped crying but continued to sobbed. "You-- you bastard, why would you..."

He tries to stiffle his chuckle, kissing your eye as an apology. "I'm really sorry, love. I swear on my family's honor, this will never happen again."

"Do you know how worried I was? Do you know what I went through, thinking what ifs? What if you got injured or bruised or caught or something or what if you di-- what if something bad had happened to you?" You couldn't even say it, afraid of jinxing it.

You continued to ramble on as he watched you with an apologetic and regretting gaze.

He raises your face towards his lips and kisses it tenderly, with so much care, so much gentleness, so much love.

And then finally, he says the words you've always been waiting for. It sets your mind calm, it sets your heart free.

And it lets you love him to the deepest part of both of you.

"Everything will be explained tomorrow. We will tell you everything, my love. So for now, please get well and rest. I cannot bear to see you like this." A smile stretches on his face when your frown disappeares and your face visibly gentles.

Because you'll let yourself burn if it means loving him.

tonight

#yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty #mtp x reader #ynm x reader #ynm william #mtp william #lazyalani

[tinkerleaf]

Nap Time

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I think William would let you crash in his office, especially if he really likes you. Sometimes he's in there, sometimes he's not. You would sit in the chair in front of him, which was quite comfy. His office is always warm and smells nice, just like him. You bring a light throw blanket with you if you're feeling extra tired.

You don't talk much when you're there, as he does his own thing. The only sound between the two of you is the scribbling on paper and the occasional sip of tea. It's a comfortable silence that you couldn't replicate with anyone else. He looks up to check on you often.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Next ->

#anime #william james moriarty #writer stuff #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing #reader insert #requests open #request #random thoughts #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #x you #ynm #reqs open #drabble #fanfic #x reader #ynm william #yuumori #ynm x reader #mtp x reader #mtp william #William James Moriarty x reader #william moriarty #mtp

[rosesrflo]

Hi! Sorry for bothering you, I'm new to your account and I don't know if your requests are open. But if they are, can I request Sebastian, William, Sherlock and Louis seeing y/n in lingerie and how would they react? Thank you so much! Have a nice day and take care!!

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｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 E　｡ﾟ

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(=•ㅅ•=)

(つ♡⊂)∫

U--U

Feats; Sebastian, William, Sherlock, Louis (MTP). Genre; NSFW

Prompt; ❛❛Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.❞ Warnings; a bit handsy but not smut, painfully long, fem!reader/AFAB

Desc; IN WHICH you showcase some interesting outfits for your partner, if only you knew what you do to them. Don’t worry, they’ll let you know with some intimate explanations.

A/N; Of course, lovely! I enjoyed writing this but a few scenarios are rlly long, and I apologise if some characters are a bit ooc (sorry if it’s too/too less smutty), have a good day/night and enjoy! <3

SEBASTIAN;

This man is thirsty asf

What can he say? Force of habit.

What can he say? Force of habit.

If this is what he’s like on a normal basis, you can imagine what he’s like when things get hot, he cannot believe that you think you can wear an alluring lingerie without him at least touching you.

But he must say, black looks good on you.

So much that Sebastian pounces the moment he lays eyes on your figure, his hands hooked underneath your exposed thighs, lifting you against the nearest wall with a smirk etched upon his face as he presses surprisingly soft kisses against your neck.

You’ve dug a hole for yourself, you’re definitely not getting out of this one and the next few hours will be rough.

A muffled squeal fell from your captured lips, Moran’s hands travelled over your body, the fat of your thighs spilled from his tight grip that held you upright, “Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” His eyes hungrily scanned your expression.

“And all for me..” The skimpy fabric hugged your physique in a way that he didn’t dare look away, you looked down at him through lidded lashes, if you knew this was how he’d react, you would have worn lingerie earlier.

Sebastian lowered you onto the floor although his hands didn’t leave you once and continued his onslaught of hickeys to your bared neck. A heated blush crawled onto your cheeks at the sensation, “Not here-! Someone might see us.”

Your request was blatantly tossed aside as he only pressed on, hands trailing from your thighs to more sensitive parts, “Big talk for someone walking around in that.” He pulled away proudly to observe the darkening marks on your neck; ever shameless, Moran doesn’t give a damn whether anyone catches sight.

Not when you’re all dolled up just for him, in fact, he dares them to look at you.

WILLIAM;

How can he resist you?

Revealing, red silk cupped your features perfectly, it was clear as day that you had no idea what filthy thoughts were racing through William’s head at the moment.

Even though his face doesn’t break its charming facade, his heart beats a little faster than usual, and is that a tint of red on his ears?

Your little showcase was slowly yet effectively testing his patience.

Liam isn’t usually a sexually frustrated person, well that was until you dragged him into your shared bed chambers to rate a few rather seductive outfits.

His crimson irises rake up and down you, admiring how irresistible you appeared, every model pose sent his mind into a blurred frenzy - the feeling of your hands balancing on his shoulders as you leaned in to ask him for his thoughts.

Your body barely grazed his and if you lent in just a little further you’d be touching him, just a little closer and he would..-

The ornamented cup of tea clinked throughout the quiet room as Liam lifted it from its porcelain plate to his parted lips. But of course this all served as a minor distraction, the main focus was you, his gaze was half hazed as the straps slid over your bare body.

He wished to rip it off of you in the very moment.

After an anticipated pause, you shyly stepped forwards, hands cusped behind your back, “What about this one..? I like the coverage but it isn’t red..” Mindless mutters cut him off before he could reply.

“You look ravishing, either way.” You blinked at his double meaning compliment, a sweet smile formed on your lips in thanks. William on the other hand was undressing you imaginatively, you were so pure.

Turning away from him, you loosened the straps holding your outfit together, hues of blush heated your cheeks as you tried to undo the bra straps but ultimately failed, “Ah-Liam could you help me with..-“ Gesturing to your situation.

Liam’s beverage had long since gone cold, placing it onto the plate, he watched you nervously saunter towards him. Your hands clasped onto his shoulders for balance whilst he skillfully unclasped your bra straps, he had done this too many times to count. He swallowed audibly.

The lingerie was only just covering you, unconsciously, he held the small of your back and lightly urged you onto his lap; you gasped as he slid the clothing off of your shoulders, his eyes wandered to your exposed assets.

“May I kiss you, darling?” William’s tone was laced with lust as you steadied yourself.

What came after was certainly more than just a kiss.

SHERLOCK;

It was a stuffy night.

and It wasn’t exactly your intention to dress up for Sherlock, it was just so unbearably warm that you simply couldn’t wear anything else.

Unbeknownst to you, the minute he sees you in such revealing clothing, you’ll be even more hot and stuffed; except this time with his cock.

It was late into the night when Sherly received a bit of a gift as he finally retired to his room. You were a sight to behold say the least - all curled up in his bedroom, dark blue fabric danced hazardously across your body.

Unlike the others, Sherlock doesn’t immediately jump to sexual conclusions, no, he admired you. How lucky was he for catching a divine being like you?

He watched your sleeping figure for a few minutes, his eyes glinted with nothing short of admiration, you were absolutely heavenly, especially in that.

Admirations soon faded into lust.

A huff escaped Sherlock as he quickened his pace towards 221B, the sky was midnight blue and the finished cigarette in his hand didn’t ease any thoughts about you. His breathe hitched upon pacing inside the silent flat, everyone was asleep.

Wasting no more time idly standing around, Sherlock started his way to your shared room; the room air was humid, the largest window was far open and you were snoozing as peaceful as ever.

However, his eyes seemed to linger on your sleeping form, but it wasn’t a surprise - your body seemed almost nude if not for the lingerie, bed covers were strewn everywhere except you and the pale moonlight shon down onto your (s/c) skin.

You tossed in your sleep, sensing another person in the room. Sherly knelt by the bed before gently cupping your face, “Now what do we have here, (n/n)?” The familiar scent of cigars and faint cologne, accompanied with his cockney accent woke you from your slumber.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you blinked at Sherlock’s smirking face, “You’re back, Sherly.” He drew a figurative line with his index finger from your neck, between your breasts, “I’m back.”

“What are you wearing at this hour?” You averted your eyes at the query, “Not that I mind.” He lent in to press a kiss to your neck, despite his vague actions - it was quite obvious to you what would occur next.

“Please be gentle, Sherly, ‘m tired.”

LOUIS (SMUT WARNING);

Contrasting this man’s modest appearance, he’s probably the most sexually active excluding Moran.

Not on his own account but because he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

Have you seen yourself? He tries not to think about your body but it affirmatively fails every time you show him one of your revealing outfits.

It makes his mind go brrr, the way it cups your breasts, your thigh high socks don’t help your alibi either, by the time he’s finished with you - you’ll be a mewling mess, bite marks littering your inner thighs.

Yes he’s a biter.

But don’t worry, Louis is an absolute gentleman and awfully good at it, he’ll have you screaming in no time flat.

All that can be said is, good luck.

“I advise you to be quiet, my lady.”

A silent gasp escaped your plush lips as your head fell into the fluffy pillows, Louis’ hands pinned your legs in the air to ensure you didn’t move whilst he worked on your pretty cunt.

Lace, blue garments were pushed aside your left lip, he wanted to devour you in such an outfit that captured your complete charm. Mewls vibrated in your throat, his tongue flickered kitten laps against sensitive nerve bundles.

Despite the situation at hand, a polite smile eased his features once his teeth catch your little bud and you looked just about to pass out, all fucked out. Using one hand to spread your sopping pussy, he pressed two digits into your entrance and he almost came on the spot from how tight you were clenching.

Pushing them in a few more times, you cried out his name as your back near arches off of the bed, “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” Louis leaned in to taste more of your essence, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his lips suckle your swollen clit.

Your legs kick upwards the closer you came to the edge of release, and it wasn’t until then does he realise how hard you were cumming, “Looking so lovely…dressed up in such obscene attire..”

He pulls away breathlessly after you slowly came down from the mind blowing high, your eyes squeezed shut and body trembling. Louis gazed down at the art piece he dubbed you, lightly pecking your forehead, how sinfully gorgeous..

“As you were, my lady.”

#yuukuko no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #mtp x reader #fanfic #moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #ynm x reader #yuukuko no moriarty x reader #smut #louis james moriarty #sebastian moran #mtp sherlock #ynm sherlock #ynm #moriartythepatriotxyou #louis james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #yuumori x reader #yuumori #mtp william

[angelltheninth]

Heyo!! I saw you had opened requests so I came as fast as I could lol! May I request reuniting with James bonde after he comes back from a long mission?

Thank you! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hope you have a great day/night too and that reading this makes it so much better.

Pairing: James Bonde x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, reunions, gift giving, teasing, making out, cuddles

A/N: Finally someone who appreciates my man James Bonde! Why is he so underrated, I don't get it!

Never comes homes without a gift for you from the place he was at

Gives you a rough timeframe of when you can expect him but likes the element of surprise

James loves to carry you bridal style when he reunites with you

There aren't many things you can do to fluster him but enjoys seeing you try, mostly it's gonna get him riled up

Makes out while taking off his suit and tie, he can multitask

He likes getting lipstick all over him, but not all over his suit so if you happen to be wearing lipstick his suit has to go

Knows all your weak spots and gives attention to each one while pushing you back against the bed

Needs to feel you grinding against his leg or else he teases you about not actually missing him all that much

Loves to snuggle against your chest and feel you give him a head massage

Can't fall asleep unless he tells you he loves you

#yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #james bonde #ynm #ynm james bonde #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuumori x reader #james bonde x reader #ynm x reader #yuukoku no moriarty imagine #yuukoku no moriarty headcanons #yuumori imagine #yuumori headcanons #ynm imagine #ynm headcanons #yuukoku no moriarty fluff #yuumori fluff #ynm fluff #x reader

[raspberrilady]

White Roses || William James Moriarty x Reader

a/n: Finally, here, a fic written with my friend as my hypewoman on this William piece, and me being a cheerleader on her Scaramouche fic. Ask her kindly and maaaybe she will translate a thing.

Word count: around 16,000 words divided into a prologue, 9 chapters and an epilogue. You might consider reading it on AO3

Treat this piece as an embodiment of my brianriot that was a sole thought of wanting to see a William with a soft, kind and a bit naïve lady. She will have her character development throughout the story, though. I just wanted some longer angst-fluff fic and it’s a bit dumb and silly and not that majestically written.

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of Christianity, too many scenes involving tea, not that good word choices. Translation isn’t my thing. Angst, fluff and suggestive fic.

Mary Hale isn't sure if she wants to wake her roommate up.

In her eyes, you look terrible and won't be able to get yourself presentable in the next ten minutes, when the next lesson will start. Your hair is tangled, your sleeping face bears a strange expression, and the bags under your eyes are dark. A book with an emerald cover loosely clasped in your hands betrays what [Name] [Surname] was doing all night.

For that, you blame all writers whose passionate, engaging novels keep you awake at abnormal hours. Late nights are the only quiet time in the dormitory. It's soundless enough to keep you focused and dark enough to finely hide dark blushes on your face in case your roommate woke up. She would still scold you for using the lamp, and the mood would be ruined, so you always keep the light low.

Mary Hale rolls her eyes and decides to leave you be. Either way, she doesn't know you well enough to care that much, even if you've shared a room for half a year. She spends her time perfecting her art of flirting outside the dormitory, and you... Well, she guesses you read a lot and don't mind showing up to class unprepared.

She couldn't be so careless in her appearance as you as she doesn't plan to waste her time on books much longer. She will find a wealthy lover and never lift a finger again to work, let herself sink in tons of compliments and be adored by the man of her life. That is her dream, which she devotes herself to.

She leaves the room almost without slamming the door.

Mary has no intention of being late for class. Math isn't that much important as the young professor who is an exceptional candidate for her lover. The thought of a forbidden, somewhat indecent relationship curves the corners of her mouth into a mirthful grin.

Huh. And she is surprised that this kind of thing is preventing you from sleeping, even if only on paper.

Chapter I

You are late.

William James Moriarty notes the attendance with a quick glance as he enters the room. Several seats remain empty: you and another student, who always sits in the first row—August Hearst—are missing. He also notices two unfamiliar ladies, unenrolled students who showed a sudden interest in trigonometry after seeing William. Amazing.

He puts on a gentle professor's smile, closing the door behind him and its hinges click quietly.

„Good morning. I welcome you all to the next class,” he says, standing in the middle of the room. Everyone raises and responds to his greeting. “Before we move on to the next subject, please take a look at your exams and my commentary on them. If you have any inquiries, don't hesitate to ask me. Unfortunately, two people did not pass and-”

The door creaks loudly, although you've been careful when opening it. You slip into the room and with a hasty “I'm sorry...” take your seat.

“...And that is why they will have to attend supplementary classes to catch up. This test was difficult, but I assure each of you that the knowledge you’ll gain after it will be useful in the future.”

He takes the corrected exams. His shoes clatter against a wooden floor as he hands in the exams one by one, congratulating successful students and giving knowing looks to those that don’t have math as their forte.

“Miss [Name],” his soothing tone doesn't sound threatening, yet the shiver runs down your spine. He places a test in front of you, and you notice how your calculations on the first page are almost completely crossed out. “I am inclined to suspect that the day you wrote your test was not your finest moment. Most of the data had already been misspelt in the first lines. Could it be that something was distracting you?”

You look at him with surprise and shake your head vigorously. Professor Moriarty most likely knows that he is (not only) your biggest distraction, especially since in (not only) your eyes he is perfect. Pulled straight out of a novella. Romantic one, probably. You could point which book.

Not that you are absurdly bad at all these calculations and logical thinking. But one could mess this badly only if there was something else involved, like immunity to handsome men.

And yet he plays ignorant and thus makes you even more nervous.

It isn't easy to look for an excuse. After all, you can't really say 'Hiring a handsome, young teacher as a maths was a fatal mistake by the university' or something along these lines.

“I've been having trouble sleeping lately...” Your confession is half-hearted, as you stare stubbornly at the test result which almost makes you tear up.

“Oh? Well, I can't argue that a good novel might keep one awake better than a math book,” he says with a benevolence that makes you even more embarrassed, and you blush. “Perhaps a tea of St John's wort or chamomile will be able to help you.”

You gently turn toward him and nod shyly. He smiles and ends up handing out tests. Then, he goes back to the blackboard and writes down the few formulas that caused the most problems.

Seeing how trivial your mistakes were, you start to question why you are here. Well, you somehow like the classes and your parents wanted you to take up a chance and study. And, of course, William teaches here, but it must've math, that you can't understand at all.

You sigh. How unromantic.

***

For the rest of the lecture, you've been sitting quietly, jotting down the most crucial things. Or you've tried to, as your notes started to fill up with mindless scribbles next to some formulas. You are relieved to get up from your seat when the class’s time is up.

You move towards the door along with the other classmates when you hear your name called.

“Miss [Surname]!” You don't need to turn around to realize that the voice belongs to Professor William. Even that bad mark on your exam didn't make you resent him out of spite, you notice with another beat of your heart as you approach him.

“Yes...?”

“I would like to remind you once more about the supplementary classes,” he says calmly, observing your reaction. He could point to the anxiety in your slightly widened eyes and a stab of frustration in the way your lips twitched slightly. William smiled and was mindful that it is time to change the topic. “Apropos, Miss [Surname], I have heard that the second volume of the 'Taste of Enchantment' has appeared in our library.”

Now William watches as a surprise takes over your body as the bashful redness start to spread on your face, he considers this state better than your silent puffing and pouting.

…

How does he know about this book?

'Taste of Enchantment' is an average romance with an awkward title. The protagonist is a dull lady, but not in a way you could describe yourself, as she was too perfect. You would drop the book by the first three chapters if not for the main character’s significant other, who, as you’ve decided, quite resembles William.

“How did you know I read the first volume?” You ask with an uncertain, polite smile.

William hums lightly. “I happen to be very interested in the literature my students read. I noticed you recently with the book, so I decided to try it myself.”

...That is mortifying. You know so many books and your lecturer had to caught you reading this mediocre crap. The ending of the first volume may have been quite good, you admit it yourself, but overall it was...

…Yeah, mediocre crap is an adequate way to describe it.

“If I had known, I would have had in hand a more interesting novel than this one...,” you chuckle to shake off the awkward feeling and lower your gaze on your watch. There is still some time to eat breakfast. You did a slight curtsey. “Excuse me, professor, but I will be going now. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course, miss [Surname]. I hope to see you in the supplementary classes,” you nod, already resigned to your fate, and he smiles as you take your leave. It sweetens the fact you will have even more limited free time.

If he had stopped you, he would see a scarlet blush covering your cheeks before you got out of the room. Your throat is dry, and any further words would have died on your tongue.

Almost with relief, you leave William's classroom.

'Taste of Enchantment'...

The blush again douses your face, and you close your eyes while rebuking yourself quietly. You couldn’t believe that a crappy romance book that would rather suit a somewhat-read teenager would make your heart beat fast and not because of the frustrating plot.

And you wanted to be a model student, [Name]?

Chapter II

Never before in your life have you been so nervous yet excited for a lesson to start.

Even though you are theoretically here as punishment for not studying enough math or just not being talented enough to master it effortlessly, it is hard to get the nervous smile off your face. You try to not let your fluster show, tightening your fingers on the covers of your books.

With your free hand, you reach for a door.

The class is almost empty and the sight of it reminds you of a lively marked suddenly going vacant. It’s unusual and leaves a nostalgic feeling behind.

“Welcome back, Miss [Name],” William's velvety voice greets you as soon as you walk through the door, and the world around seemed to dim in his presence. “I'm glad you found time for me.”

“O... of course,” you reply hazily, sitting down by the desk that is closer to the blackboard than your usual seat. You don’t want to look impolite, would you take a sit that far away, when there are only two people in the class...

...Or rather, there should have been two people, because the second student—another failure in terms of math—hasn't arrived yet.

“Ah,” William notices your unspoken question. “You are currently the first one to arrive. The most punctual. I'll admit I have no idea whether Mr Hearst will join us. There are three minutes left before the scheduled time... But,” the smile he gives you is charming enough, you can't focus on his words, “we will somehow manage together either way, won't we, Miss [Name]?”

You smile shyly, only nodding in response. You don't like how you can't do anything about your slightly flushed cheeks. Math, math, math. You came here to learn math. Not for your handsome teacher.

You can't let yourself romanticize the situation and face the cruel reality you’re failing your classes.

You spread your books out on the desk. Once you're holding a pen in your hand, William sighs softly and begins explaining everything about trigonometry from scratch. He asks you questions, and you can feel the attention on you, which you both don't want and... somehow, makes you happy.

You solve a few tasks under his watchful eye and encouraging smile. They are easier than what was on the test, but Williams tries to convince you that the solutions are to be crafted with the same scheme.

You are absorbed with the paper in front of you, occasionally biting your lip.

While you’re absorbed with the paper in front of you, William observes watchfully the changes in your expression: from a bit of confusion to concentration and then a smile of satisfaction and surprise as you write down the answer. He approaches you and leans over to take a look at what you have written.

Your tense by the light feeling of his warm breath. He’s so close. You can discern the light smell of roses. Is this cologne?

If anyone else were in his shoes, you would be terrified by this proximity. Now, somehow, you aren't.

“Mhm, both first exercises are correct, but in the third, you have used the wrong formula.” He hums right next to your ear. His voice is quiet, almost coming out as a whisper.

You press your lips together in a narrow line as your cheeks become even redder. You mutter something under your breath, correcting the data. You don't dare to look at him, because your heart’s beat fastened and you don’t want it to jump out of your chest or stop.

…How delightful.

“Professor Moriarty...?” You whisper, drawing his attention back to you from his wandering thoughts.

“Forgive me Miss [Na-]” SHHHHHHHHHHH!! His apology is interrupted by the creak of the door opening. William straightens up and turns around. At the threshold stand two—...two?—late students; Mary, your roommate, and a boy whose locks of chestnut-coloured hair you've been seeing in class around five rows in front of you.

“I'm sorry for being late!” Mary Hale giggles cutely through her apology. She notices William and she smiles charmingly in his direction. She hadn't been invited to extra classes—but who would have a good reason to deny an eager student extra maths lessons?

Still, even as your beloved professor gracefully moves away from your desk, you can smell his cologne. You shift your gaze to the newcomers, distracting yourself from the scent of roses.

Mary greets the professor who answers her with the same courtesy. The man who you barely knew from the classes, hesitantly takes a seat next to you, bowing his head slightly in silent “good morning”.

You smile timidly in return.

“Of course, professor!” The melodic voice of Mary steals your attention once again. You glance again at the... pair that looks very good on each other sides. It pains you how the golden locks of Mary's hair give her a princess look, that matches William's gentlemanly appearance.

…Hm. They look like the main couple from the “Taste of Enchantment”, and you can't help but pout with dissatisfaction.

...Well, either way, William seems to like you a bit more than her! Probably. You guess. You hoped so. Maybe you are seeing whatever you want to see, and want to cheer yourself up, but... You don't know what you would do if you stopped using your imagination.

The warmth on your previously red cheeks suddenly seems to prickle, just as ice dabbed on your skin.

Mary is more... more than you. You can't put your finger on the source of her charm, but you suspect that her big blue eyes, almond-shaped face and feminine curves have something to do with it. Her voice is always layered with honey, and even sweeter words can turn any man into her lover. Hm... Well, maybe you can tell why was she popular, but that doesn't make you any happier.

How can William not resist this charm? His aura that spellbinds people is as strong as hers, and the effects are well-known throughout the academy.

…

You don’t notice the glaze of tears that forms over your eyes before a gentle nudge snaps you out of your reverie.

Someone's hand is extended discreetly towards you with a flower-embroidered handkerchief between their fingers. The consoling gaze of your desk companion is the only thing that stops you from bursting into tears. You really can't understand how can you be so oversensitive about the scenario going over in your head.

“Everything will be alright,” you hear the warm voice of a stranger. “...The very fact that you are still trying to understand math, means that you are a very strong woman.”

You take the handkerchief and wipe away the traces of traces. “...Thank you.” With a gesture, your companion signals you can keep the piece of this beautiful material to yourself. You nod your head in another thank you. “We're both strong, even if our grades say otherwise.”

He laughs heartily. “And that is very good thinking, dear lady!”

“Miss [Name], Mr Hearst,” the two of you look at your professor who must have finished talking with Mary. At William's heavy gaze, Mr Hearst moves away to give a decent distance between you. “Let me start the class properly, please. I will write out some formulas and instructions on the board for you. Try to solve them and bring me your calculations tomorrow. And now, going to the further topic...”

You can feel your eyes on yourself more often than normally. You catch William's gaze lingering on you. Your heart is beating loudly, but not in a joyful rhythm. It was something between a melody of uncertainty and melancholy, that doesn't allow you to raise your gaze. No, you can't do that without hope that helped you today to get up at an absurdly early hour... Absurdly early hour for you, 8 am.

…

You are aware of your jealousy. Comparing William and Mary to the characters from your new favourite book completely ruined your mood, but it was only your fault. You should stop overthinking and get a grip.

You finish the lesson by noting down the formulas. It is hard to do it correctly, because you've been avoiding looking at William, and the fact that he is constantly standing next to the blackboard doesn't help. 

The chime of a bell at the end of class sounds angelic.

You cram all your belongings—two books, a fountain pen and a notebook with some pages unintentionally crumpled—into your bag and hurry to the exit. You arrive at the door frame so quickly, that Mary and Mr Hearst have only raised from their seats, and you even have the nerve to pretend that you don't hear your name called. 

You open the door and, although no one can say that you are running, your every step is an escape from a certain professor and his classroom. You should keep your joy in books and distancing yourself from Mr Moriarty is the first step to achieving that.

…

Your room. Only now, as you're sitting down on your bed, you begin to analyse your behaviour. You can feel your heart pounding hard, and not just because of your “run”.

Your eyes tear up over again at the memory of your last lecture, and you sink back onto your pillows.

“It's so foolish,” you think. You can't understand why the sight of Mary standing next to William had put you so off balance. Was it because of your naive enchantment? Or was it simply your imagination putting the two of them in the place of characters from a popular novella?

You’re being unfair to Mary right now. The guilt will eat you fully if you ever begin to be rude to her just because of your unfulfilled fantasy. You groan, burying your face in a cushion. 

Just as you were about to buy the new volume of “Taste of Enchantment” not so long ago, all you want now is to burn every copy of the book that makes you go through a mental breakdown.

...No, even this book, no matter how cheesy, doesn't deserve that.

Someone knocks on the door. The sudden sound makes you tense up, but you get up after the second knock. With a hasty movement, you wipe your watery eyes and adjust the folds of your dress.

“I... I'm coming,” you mutter, praying that your voice won't falter. Before reaching the door, you glance at your reflection in the mirror and bite your lip at the sight of reddened eyes and cheeks, and you believe you make a sad sight.

After opening the door, the person in front of you surprises you: Mr Hearts, the kind soul who had spent the last moments of class with you. He’s not too tall a young man with dark hair and a gentle face. His cheeks look smooth and squeezable and are slightly flushed, maybe from the embarrassment that comes from the indecency of a man visiting a woman’s room alone. 

His laugh is a little awkward as he holds up the loose sheets of paper he has brought with him. “I sincerely apologize for the disturbance, Miss [Name], but... You left some of your notes behind, after leaving so quickly and... They might be important.”

You press your lips into a timid smile. A new wave of embarrassment washes over you at the memory of your behaviour. You feel stupid, knowing that this man took his time to find your room and return your notes, because of… you.

“Oh... Thank you kindly,” you smile shyly, taking the papers from his hands. “Would you like to come in for something to drink?” You invite him uncertainly and move away from the door, but Mr Hearts stops you. 

“There is no need, but I appreciate the offer. I came here unannounced, and I believe you might need some space today,” the student smiles a little more confidently, and you notice how charming he looks with such an expression. He must be popular with women.

“Then please let me repay you with a cup of tea someday,” you say. “I feel indebted to you.”

He chuckles. “Alright, lovely comrade in arms of trigonometry.”

“…That’s a long nickname.”

“Then, is ‘lovely comrade’ alright?” He offers, but he isn’t suave in these kinds of talks and you know his throat is going dry. You know the pain of this fellow introvert.

“…My name is enough.”

“Just your name?”

You huff at the way he squints his eyes and burst out in a friendly chuckle. “If you insist.”

“In that case, I would like to be called by just a name too. I’m August Hearst.”

“Thank you, Mr August. Oh, and since you are here...” You open one of the drawers and take out a white handkerchief which roses you have embroidered by hand. “I would like you to keep it... As in exchange for your support in class and your handkerchief.”

You hand him the handkerchief and have to push it aggressively into his hands before he finally accepts it.

Chapter III

August Hearst is a delightful gentleman.

You come to this conclusion in the next several days filled with shared classes. He's been taking the seat next to you whenever possible, greeted you every day with an amiable word and even a kinder smile, and tried to accompany you at each dinner.

Your dream of William Moriarty and the secret romance have been slowly distancing itself, when you were with August. Now you know that all the things that happened in your head were... too surreal to come to this reality. Out of your reach.

If you've learned anything from your romance books, it would be the obligation to back out in the name of others' happiness. And the main character in this story might be Mary.

You smile unconvincingly to yourself.

“[Name],” your attention returns to August again, who just finished tucking his books into his bag and is ready to go. He puts apologies in his mouth when he informs you that he isn't able to walk you back to the dorm today. “I'm sorry about that, [Name], but I promised someone...”

“Have no worry, August,” you interrupt him gently, getting up from your seat. You walked through the oaken door of the literature hall, where, for the last hour and a half, thirty students experienced the torment of detailed interpretation of ancient texts. No one knew there why have they chosen this subject to have scheduled obligatory amount of hours. You squeeze the textbooks closer to your chest. “I was going to excuse myself as well and check something in a library...”

Your companion gives you a nod and visible relief brightens his face. “You take the weight off my heart”.

The farewells exchanged, Mr Hearst disappears with his acquaintances from your sight, and you step into a wide, empty corridor, whose marble ornaments reflect late sunlight and some candles spaced around the way.

It isn't a rare sight—after evening classes it isn’t easy to find any students, who would still want to be in the building after a dozen (or so) hours of focused learning.

You are not here to learn more though. You are walking to get to your favourite entertainment, the world of fictional romance. The books are expensive, and getting your hands on many of them by the privilege of being a student here is something of your guilty pleasure, you wouldn't admit to Mr Hearst. 

You won't tell him right away, no. You don’t want him to see how almost the only genre you read is romance. If he finds out, he might think you have too rigoristic standards and that isn't true (or, you hope so). It certainly wouldn't encourage him to make a move if he is interested in you...

…

...Is he interested in you?

…

The library, as you expected, is empty.

You relax immediately. In front of you stand many bookcases filled with stories that only waited for someone who will get enchanted by a pretty cover and gorgeously scribbled titles. Your hands ache to get themselves to work and find another masterpiece.

You keep a slow pace as you walk between racks and read the catchy titles. Sometimes you take a book from its place to leaf through pages, guessing if it's interesting enough to take it back to your dorm by the lines that catch your eye.

Your eyes dart upwards and you find yourself staring at your favourite series and its newest volume, whose charm probably wouldn't understand even your favourite Mr Hearst.

The book you’ve been looking for stands maliciously high.

You don't know what kind of devil was climbing these shelves, but he had a ladder and set another volume higher than your hands could reach. The entire weight of your body falls on the toes of your feet, on which you stand to be taller, closer. It's not enough to reach the shelf. 

Yet you manage to get it. 

You feel a passive touch on your back, but your attention is sabotaged by a hand above you that grabs the book. You turn around quickly, and the rack next to you helps you to remain balanced.

“Is everything alright, miss [Name]?” Asks a familiar voice of the texture of honey and chocolate. “I thought you might need a helping hand.”

Professor William James Moriarty.

Your eyes met with the shiny crimson of your professor. It's your favourite shade of red, but you can't help but think that they are a bit darker than you remember as if they're covered with a cloud of smoke or heavy emotions.

The book is still in his hands when you greet him.

“Professor Moriarty, good evening...!” You say, your curtsy bow looks and feels stiffer than you would want it to. 

“I wasn't expecting anyone here at this hour,” he admits, smiling gently. He looks around the library. “Is Mr Hearst not with you?”

You shake your head. “No,” and add curiously: “Shall I go find him?”

“It won't be necessary. It's nothing urgent,” William assures you, taking a step back from you. The light rose aroma doesn’t leave you though. Was he that close to you if you could recognize such a delicate scent? “To say the truth, I am a little jealous.”

You get choked by a surprise.

“Je... Jealous? You, professor?” And another unsaid question: “Why?”

William's polite laugh rings in your ears.

“Of course. Miss [Name], it's very inappropriate for me to tell this to such a charismatic person as yourself, but I feel a bit lonely, if I dare to say, without your attention in my classes.”

“Ah,” I should've paid more attention to the classes... Are my grades that bad? “I'm sorry. I will focus more on my studies.”

“Let me rephrase this,” he corrects himself immediately as if he could find the doubts just by looking at you. “I would like to request your valued company more often. I found myself dissatisfied we couldn't find time to share a discussion on literature. And there comes an invitation: would you care to join me for a cup of tea if you could spare me an hour of your time?”

You gape at him.

What??

You can feel your body growing warmer and slowly breaking down, like an overheated machine. Your legs are going to give out, even though you want to fly with the butterflies in your stomach. That feeling has taken your ability to say even one word, so you just nod, hoping that this motion will express all of your excitement in a very polite manner.

William gets closer to you. He stands close enough to cover up your whole vision.

You think about moving away, but the back of your shoe is already touching the bookcase behind and your shoulders almost lean on the wall of books. William's hand reaches for the book next to your head, closing you in a half-embrace that limits your movements and the will to escape.

You can still turn around. Or start to scream if you want to get out of here. But...

William cups your cheek and tilts your head enough to have you looking into his eyes. You could see him clearly and be well aware of his gaze that wanders on your face with delight and some kind of excitement, although he keeps the gentleman's shtick that is always expected from every nobleman or professor.

But your observing time has ended, as you feel something on your lips.

The cover of the volume you were trying to reach before is pressed to your mouth. William is still looking at you with warmth, but he's... closer. You can't see his face anymore, mostly hidden by the book.

Your lips are being separated only by the cover and two hundred sheets of paper.

You hear a whisper against the other side of the book that you can’t catch the words, but it’s meaningless—you cannot focus on the same voice you have listened to for hours, relishing the opportunity to get to know such a wonderful voice.

You feel the cover pressed against your lips stay there for a moment, and then encounter the disappointment that William has moved away from you, although he still holds all of your attention.

...A kiss? Was it an indirect kiss? Was it just your illusion, a daydream, even though the untouchable evidence indicates otherwise? Are you going crazy?

You no longer have any perception in your fingers as William gently places the volume in your hands. With a kiss planted on the back of your hand, he bids you farewell. "I wish you a wonderful night, Miss [Name]. Enjoy your reading,” with a smile he leaves the library.

It is long after sunset.

You arrive at your room with a foggy mind.

You don’t open the book, which you set down carefully on the bedside table, although every glance you cast at it makes you shudder.

After two hours you fall asleep. Mary hasn't returned to her room for the night.

...

You wake up abruptly, finding the alarm clock ringing too loud.

Your cheeks burn red as you look around the room and glance at the book next to the bed, feeling your face heat up even more.

You walk briskly to the bathroom to get ready for today's class. You cast a glance at your roommate's bedspread. It is in the same condition as yesterday—a black dress and an ironed shirt lie on a tidy beige bed. The history textbook doesn't seem to have been touched and the box of new slippers Mary had been excited about recently hasn't even been opened.

“She didn't come back for the night...?” It is nothing new, yet for some reason, you feel a pang of uneasiness. You shake your head. She probably fell asleep at someone’s else house. Nevertheless, it’s painful to wake up alone in the room you should be sharing with someone else.

You glance at a book and put a hand on its cover. Somehow, the hope pours into you like a warm honey.

…

“You seem to be in a good mood today, [Name],” Mr Hearst smiles at you, sitting opposite you with his plate of food.

“Is that so? I just feel… lucky today.”

“I wish I had your happiness today. Give me some, please.”

“It’s mine,” you laugh, and he squints his eyes at you in a playful annoyance. His smile looks a little strained, so you decide to ask. “Well then, is something wrong?”

He looks as if he wants to count his misfortunes on his fingers but bites his tongue and sighs. “It’s nothing that critical,” and you imagine another idea came to his mind, but before he says it, Professor William comes to your table.

“I apologize for the interruption,” he says in a worried voice that suggests that something is wrong, “but could I have a word with Miss [Name]? It's an urgent matter.”

“Is something wrong, Professor...?” You throw an apologetic glance at August and move away from the table. Could it be that he wanted to bring up the subject of the previous meeting...? Well, you have agreed to have tea together, but in your spirit, you hope he won't ask for it yet. You wanted to prepare for it... Mentally. Perhaps even arrange a few false scenarios in your head, just in case, as it sometimes enhances your courage.

However, it is not what William had in mind.

“Have you seen Miss Hale? She didn't turn up for our last class, although she promised me personally that she would.”

“Mary...?” You ponder, and the sting of uneasiness from the morning returns to poke your heart. “She didn't come back last night... Maybe she stayed with, um, her friends, but I haven't spoken to her. We've been passing each other a lot lately...”

Within another hour you land in William James Moriarty's temporary office, nervously clutching your skirt and stewing in an atmosphere of concern.

Mary has disappeared.

You don’t yet know if something was going on with her, but the general confusion has sensitised your nerves.

“Here, tea,” a cup of Earl Grey appeared in your hand. It warms your hands. “How are you feeling?”

You take a sip of tea, which is a bit too hot, and gaze into space expectantly. Politeness and etiquette require you to say ‘alright’, but you couldn't think of anything of anything other than your housemate.

You start to regret not talking to her more before as you would have a better idea of what places she goes to.

“Truly...” Your voice cracks. “Truly, no one knows what happened to Mary? She... She was still in class yesterday after all! She was asking me for notes for a test, and.... and now nobody knows where she is.”

William shakes his head and takes the cup from your hands before your grip loosens. He stands at the side of the sofa you are sitting on and leans towards you.

“I won’t make empty promises that everything will be alright,” he says, not taking his eyes off yours, “but you must believe that I will do everything in my power to get Miss Hale back to the dorm in a safe condition.”

You nod gratefully but awkwardly.

“Thank you very much, Professor Moriarty.”

“There is yet another matter we need to discuss. Miss [Name], it would be very dangerous for you to be alone at a time like this. We don’t yet know the cause of Miss Hale's disappearance, so there would be no one there to help you,” you bite your lip so as not to interrupt him and tell him that Mary was not much of a help anyway, “in case of an accident....”

“Will I be moved to somewhere else, then?”

“As all the rooms are occupied and the two other female students cannot be separated either (We wouldn't want to leave either of them alone, would we? That would defeat the purpose). I made a proposal to the management, which will only be executed with your permission.”

You look at him curiously.

“A proposal?”

William smiles.

“You will move into my property... Until the matter resolves.”

CHAPTER IV

You aren’t sure how he did it, but everything has gone just the way he wanted.

Somehow, you got allowed to move to Mr Moriarty. You had never heart of management pulling a move like that—did they really put your safety above the moral principles they were so protective of?—so until you stood before his property, you weren’t fully convinced you were going to move. 

You take a deep breath, however, this doesn’t calm you down at all.

The door in front of you opens before William can reach its handle. Into them appears a man resembling your professor with the same blonde hair colour and remarkable scarlet eyes. Your gaze wanders between William and his likeness.

“This is my younger brother, Louis,” William introduced the man, clearly amused by your confusion.

His brother...!

“Pleased to meet you,” he bows slightly.

“Me too, sir...” you reply with the same curtsy.

“Allow me,” he carefully takes over your luggage. You mouth a "thank you" and he brings over the bags without much difficulty and disappears down the corridor. He is back in a minute and by the speed at which he took care of things you think he is one hell of a butler.

“Before we move on to breakfast, brother William wanted me to show you around the estate,” Louis announces, greeting you with a tray of fresh tea in his hand. You wondered if you were being treated too well here. “There's no need to worry. It will be a short trip.”

“Alright,” you nod and, after finding that the tea is not that hot, take a sip of it. A pleasant warmth hugged you from the inside. “This is such a delicious tea...”

Louis smiles because William asked him to be very kind to you.

...Although he still feels that no one is worthy of so much attention from his brother.

…

“This is a library,” the door creaks open and another wonder of the world reveals itself to your eyes. It’s much smaller than the library at the university, but it seems in spotless condition and has more novels and math books. There are maps, history books and psychological documents too. You ignore the staccato in your chest. “Miss [Name], I heard you like books.”

“Ah-!” You look at him surprised. “I do indeed love them. Did you hear about it from Professor William?”

“Yes,” he replies, and the indifference in his voice slowly begins to break. “Brother William said the books brought you closer together or so.”

Well, books were the reason why you thought about Professor Moriarty so often. He was well-read, so you had insightful chit-chats about the literature.

The scene from the library invades your brain once again. William still hasn’t confronted you about the kiss or anything. The tension that magazined in your muscles in the last few days is almost painful.

Louis grunts quietly. “You are invited to come here whenever you would like to. Brother Wi—"

“Oh, is that Miss [Name]?” Another voice interrupts Louis’ words, and a man in a grey suit seems to rise from under the ground and appear before you. Optimism, elegance and style—a lethal mix for sensitive hearts—emit in his every word and movement, and you can immediately tell that the visitor has a much more sociable life than you. “She is even more lovely than I imagined.”

“Miss [Name] This is James," Louis introduces the blond man, and he makes a curt nod.

He smiles, grasping your hand in an almost theatrical way. “At your service,” he said, winking at you. He then shifted his attention to Louis. “Are you showing her around the mansion?”

Louis nods affirmatively.

“We have only just started, but Brother William asked for a brief recce for Miss [Name].”

“I can gladly do that if you want to,” James offers. “Don't blame me, but, in my opinion, there are too many guys here. And a woman here,” for stressing the term he gets a chastising look from Louis, “is something unheard of! You have to prepare everything for our wonderful breakfast, isn't that right?”

Louis thought for a moment and sighed.

He turns to you. “Miss [Name]. Would you mind if Mr James took care of you for the next twenty minutes? I'm quite needed to prepare the meal.”

“Of course not,” You replied immediately, not wanting to be a burden to Louis, who seemed to take care of the whole household on his own. You pondered why an aristocrat and the brother of a professor decided to take on such a role.

“Lovely,” James stands right next to you, ready to make a quick round around the property. He looks at you with a glint in his eye. “So, shall we start with the garden? It would be worth introducing Fred to you and the atmosphere there is just.... muah,” he kisses his fingertips.

Louis moved in the opposite direction to you. “She is… okay,” he admits to himself in thought as he walks through the main hall to get to the dining room. He isn’t sure if okay is enough to hoard so much of Brother William’s attention. “Ah, that's right. I should tell Moran to not—.“

—Slam!!

With a mighty step comes Moran, who has terrible timing. Although Louis hopes he won’t notice you by the breakfast, the man’s gaze almost automatically goes in your direction as you walk out the door with James.

He manages to catch your curious eye.

A smile stretches his lips.

He approaches you with a wry grin, and you carefully scrutinise him with your eyes. You have to admit that he is handsome, however he seems to be more Mary's type, judging by the looks of the men she’d been hanging out with. You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of your roommate.

As Moran approaches you, James grows instantly gloomier as if his entrance was some kind of a bad joke you can’t help but sight upon hearing. “What do you want?”

“Is there a problem, Bond?” He rolls his eyes.  “I just wanted to say hello,” he turns towards you, and a charming smile appears on his lips. “Sebastian Moran, it's a pleasure to me—"

“Oh, there you are, Miss [Name].” Moran's statement is interrupted by William's voice coming from behind the dark-haired man. You get a feeling that Moran is disliked here, or they are all trying to bully him on purpose. Whether it’s a daily occurrence, but the man only smirks at William’s arrival.

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Breakfast is ready. I would suggest going back inside,” he smiles, sending Sebastian a warning look.

James sighs a little disappointed.

“I will go look for Fred in that case...”

***

The breakfast passes in a pleasant atmosphere, thanks to which you get acquainted with the residents of the mansion. They are very... lively. The meal started with the petty banter exchanged between Moran and Bond and ended with everyone getting busy with their duties. Thanks to them all, you’ve been able to take a little break from the overwhelming reality, for which you were very grateful.

After the tea, you move to the living room at the request of William. You sit down in the armchair opposite him, taking a book borrowed from James. There is a comfortable silence between you, accompanied by the sound of pages being turned. Your body relaxes. You haven't had many opportunities to do so lately, so you appreciate being able to rest at William's side and even hope that such moments could be endless...

“How do you find it here?”

You look up from your book and smile.

“It's lovely here,” you reply without a second thought. There is nothing you would complain about. “And everyone is very nice. I didn't know you, professor, had a brother! Mr Louis is a truly outstanding chef... Any chance he could share the recipe of those tarts that were on the table?”

William chuckles, and you put the book aside. Fictional romances are interesting, but talking to William could draw you in even more. “Of course. Although... I don't know if I'd like it myself.”

You twitch with nervousness.

“O-oh,” you corrected the folds of your skirt, somehow not having the strength to look at William. “If I ask for too much, then, of course—"

“I apologize. I phrased it wrong,” William interrupts you softly, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. Since when did he sit so close to you? Just as you remembered, the floral scent that was in the library strikes you once more. “That's not what I meant.”

He grunts and straightens up, shifting his hand from your shoulder to the palms of your hands.

“The truth is, I have an issue,” he smiles weakly, and your heart leaps with emotion. William trusts you that much to speak freely about his problems? “And it consists in the fact that I have never known what you take interest in,” saying this, he lies. “We’ll certainly give you the recipe but rather as in exchange. I’d love to learn much more about you, so you will be able to count on me even more.”

You choke on your tea.

“I...” Your voice is hoarse and you have no idea how should you respond with your tongue tied with a stir. “I am not sure if it is possible to make me even more dependent on you, Professor. Especially as I am living in your house for the moment, and I’ve been treated with nothing but kindness.”

“Yet I am even more infatuated with you when you’re here,” William whispers.

He dangerously closes the distance. He teases you, moving closer and closer to you more and more slowly and not allowing you to look away from him.

If before, in the school library, you were separated by a book, now there is not one.

…

There is Louis.

Louis knocks on the room and makes you jump away from William to the other end of the sofa. William looks as if he is suppressing a chuckle before turning to his brother.

“Brother William, Miss [Name], the carriage has been prepared,” he says, bowing in a butler manner. “Mr James and Mr Moran are already waiting downstairs.”

“Professor Moriarty, are we going somewhere?”

William takes another sip of tea, seeming completely unmoved in contrast to you. He’s calm yet cannot stop himself from looking up from the brim of his book to watch your reaction.

“We are going to the city, Miss [Name].”

CHAPTER V

London is bustling at this hour. The streets are filled with carriages, finely dressed people stroll along the pavements and children run around them. The image spreading before you had something magical about it, even though it represented the everyday life of the capital's inhabitants.

“Miss [Name]?” William's voice snaps you out of your reverie. You turn an offered arm. You feel shy from the gesture, but you politely accept it.

“...Professor, where are we going?” You ask upon noticing that you are heading to the richer neighbourhoods. Even if someone doesn’t know London very well, the gap between each zone is striking. The buildings here are prettier and you gape at the picturesque area.

“To the tailor,” he says simply, stopping in front of an exclusive-looking shop window.

You freeze in spirit. The displayed gowns are beautiful, richly embellished, and certainly sewn from the highest quality material. You swallow your saliva, glancing uncertainly at Moriarty. You are sure that your money wouldn’t let you afford a little scrape of the fabric, not when it all goes on books. 

“Professor Moriarty... I'm afraid it's not for my budget...” You laughed awkwardly.

“Consider it a gift from me. We don’t know how much time we’ll be lucky to share, yet a fine dress might be required if the guests will visit the mansion.”

“I... I don't know if I can accept your gift...” You hesitate. “I am grateful, but, I… Just can’t. I am not accustomed to such gifts and I won’t be ever able to repay you a gift like that.”

“I insist,” he says but it doesn’t convince you. William sighs. “Then, how about a deal?” He suggests. You perk up and that’s not something you should have done because a lady mustn’t be involved in such atrocious activities. “I will buy you a dress, and as... As compensation of sorts, you will show me your favourite place. You’ve been living not too far away from here, isn’t that so?”

“This is not—"

“This is a very fair exchange, Miss [Name]," he interrupts you, knowing what you wanted to say. You press your lips into a narrow line. It is a bad idea, however, seeing how persistent William is...

“If you insist...”

“I very much insist,” he replies, satisfied with your answer. He then smiles as if he had realised something. “One more thing, Miss [Name]. I think we should address each other by our first names for a while if we don't want to stir up gossip. What will people think when someone discovers that an unmarried woman is staying in a house full of strange men? We should give the impression of family.”

...William could not have cared less about the public opinion of him in this situation.

He almost pushes you through the door into the dressmaker's shop. By the time you blink, you are surrounded by a garland of women. One of them speaks to William, and the other gets a signal to take your measurements. You hold your breath as they do so.

Once everything is written down, you and William could move on.

...

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Once again, [Name]. I believe you can manage to call me by name. Only then will I listen to you.”

“Mr William...”

“Almost there.”

“…William.” You say in a half-hearted voice. Saying his name out loud is much more difficult than in your head. “Are you... Are you sure it's not too much? All those accessories... The outfit alone must cost a fortune.”

“If I am sure of anything, it is that it is all money was well spent.”

“…I don’t concur.”

William smiled at your words and took a sip of ginger tea. You’ve been having an awful lot of tea parties lately. The taste of this brew is no match for the one Louis brewed, but it is certainly one of the local delicacies.

The tea and cake shop you are in is one of the most famous establishments in the city. The upper terrace—where you are now—is open to those with money. It’s not one of the more expensive venues, but certainly one of the more charming.

Despite the hour, there are almost no customers.

“Does the dessert not suit your tastes?” William prompts, looking at your plates.

You both have slices of fresh strawberry tart that was made with a thin, soft sponge cake, a layer of heavy cream and sweet and sour strawberry jam in between.  

A teapot of tea is constantly warmed on a porcelain stand, and cups in floral patterns stand right next to your plates. Vases of freshly squeezed juices and water were placed on the table next to you.

It is the most varied afternoon tea you've been to recently. And everything is delicious.

“No, I like it very much”' you reply, quickly scooping up a larger piece of cake, which you gracefully shove into your mouth that of course you had to choke on it.

“I'm very concerned about your ability to get into trouble,” William says handing you a glass of water that helped you to swallow the cake. 

“It's not that everything I do is that chaotic.” You try to explain, taking a sip of tea, and forgetting that the jug is constantly heated doesn’t help your case.

“Did you burn yourself?” He asks and by the look on his face, you know your actions nor words haven’t convinced him. You croak, a little disappointed in your luck, but more by the burnt tongue. “Please show me the world, it can be more serious.”

“There is- no need for that…”

“That's what ice is good for,” William states as he stands up and walks over to the table next to him. He takes a piece of ice from a small bowl which, although it was meant to cool the juices, seemed perfect to treat your burn.

“I... What should I do about it?” You asked uncertainly. Ice? In the spring? Ah yes, it must have been one of those latest inventions... Refridgerorator? Refrigerator? “Should I... bite it? Eat it?... William...”

“You make it very difficult for me,” he says taking the nearest seat to you and putting an ice into his mouth.

Huh?

…Oh.

Oh! So it was for him! Or maybe, he shows you what you should do with the ice? You will need to grab another cube.

William’s hand finds its way to your cheek, which he turns towards you. You open your mouth to ask if is everything alright.

He’s been waiting for this to move closer to you. His lips fit into yours, and you immediately feel the coolness and heat, the ice and William, bursting in your mouth. The scent of ink, books and roses surrounds you, and a hand on your nape makes sure you won’t pull back from the kiss.

An ice cube gets into your mouth. You forget about the burn, as your lungs begin to run out of air, but you don’t pull away. Neither does William, who even deepens the kiss; his other hand goes to your chair to support himself when he leans into you.

Now you are running out of air.

William moves away, but only because of the footsteps of a client, who likely enjoyed the terrace of the cake shop. William puts a distance between you that would never have suggested that a moment ago.

“The ice should have completely melted by now,” William says softly, and you are struck by how calm he looked. All you can see on his cheeks is a pale blush. “If you want more, don’t hesitate to ask,” he says and looks deadly serious as if he wasn’t teasing you.

You envy him for how composed he looks, as another couple who just got to the floor are throwing you a strange look. You are looking like a mess, for sure.

William crosses his arms. He smiles at you, and you still can’t get a word out. You would like to reproach him for the… act, immediate and rough kiss, but the very fact that you have not yet fled spoke for itself.

“Shall we go to the next place, [Name]?”

You bite the inside of your cheek gently as you nod and grasp his arm. He glances at his watch.

“We still have some time before it starts to get dark... It might be a good time to fulfil the deal on your end, [Name]," he says in a gentle tone.

You sigh softly. Favourite place...? The first thing you think of is the library. It is a too-obvious choice, though. The library at Moriarty’s is also the one you’re currently enamoured with. 

…Well, there is one place you remember liking as a child.

How long has it been since you've been there?

“Alright," you smile at him, taking first steps in an unfamiliar direction. William, wordlessly lets you guide him to the place you’ve spent hours dreaming in and about.

CHAPTER VI

The rusted gate is overgrown with ivy and it’s the first thing that catches William's attention. You open it with a loud creak. The place turned out to be... Slightly further away than you remembered, so the sun has already started to set.

You watch William’s face as you enter the wild gardens. Unruly plants grow on the ground and between the paving stones. The place you decided to take William to is an old botanical garden, which no one has been interested in for a good few years. 

Well, maybe just you.

“So… This is a place I have great memories from,” you introduce the place, spreading your arms a little like a showman.

“It's beautiful here,” he admits, looking around. “It's a surprising view, considering we were in the city centre not so long ago.”

A content blush spreads over your cheeks. This time not from embarrassment—you’ve been feeling bashful too much lately, you think—but from sheer glee. You are happy that the place appeals to William.

“Romance books were almost forbidden in my home when I was so little. I had to borrow ones from the neighbours and sneak out to read here," you confess, directing deeper into the garden.

“Really? I wouldn't expect such rebellious behaviour from you.”.

“Oh, when I was younger I did much worse than sneaking out of the house," you sigh, stepping ahead of him. William raised his eyebrows, and you felt your legs slowly stiffen. Since when did you stop being a quiet introvert? You feel an urge to explain. “Like, um, stealing food from the kitchen and blaming it on the dogs. Or borrowing my mother’s cosmetics... without asking.”

He laughs at that. “You surprise me more and more, Miss [Name].”

You arrive at your favourite part of the garden. It is a gazebo overgrown with wild roses. In the middle of it stay wooden chairs and a table, swathed by moss.

“I remember losing my favourite doll here, but I was afraid to tell my mother about it because she would find out about my sneaking out," you laugh at the memory, one of many that return while wandering.

You notice how William hasn’t said a word for a while. A pang of guilt pierces your heart. “Oh, sorry! The stories of my childhood are not the most interesting ones.”

“They are. Actually...” He lowers his voice and leans to him to hear the words better. He speaks right into your ear. “It would be my pleasure to hear more... I would like to get to know you better [Name].”

“Well...” You look at him from under your lashes, trying to guess his expectations for you. To your misfortune, neither his smile nor his eyes betray anything except his curiosity. “What would to know about me?”

William points to the space between the hedge and the woodland.

“Let’s speak in a more comfortable place.”

He grabs you under the arm, and you rise from the table. William offers to go ahead, pushing back the tall grass that reached his knees.

“Ah!” You hold your breath. You find it hard not to smile as you are flooded with fond memories. “It's been so long since I've been here that I'd almost forgotten...”

A tall oak tree with a gigantic crown casts a shadow over you. Thick ropes are tied around the thick bough. Perhaps they had once held the anchor of a small ship. Britain is, of course, a maritime country and, in a time of an over-revolutionary world, finding miscellaneous materials from machines outside the city is not uncommon.

The ropes, apart from thick knots on a high branch, are neatly tied to a heavy board half a metre above the ground.

“I couldn't have climbed up here on my own when I was younger,” you admit, your eyes searching for the stone you brought from the bushes to elevate yourself onto the swing. “Although I suspect I would still have a problem with that.”

“I'll help you,” William offers, lending you one hand and entwining the other around your waist.

“ It’s a-all right," you protest, but the grip on your body only tightens.

William does not let go.

William tries.

William learns he is not strong enough to lift you that high, even if you were the lightest woman in London.

“Please don't strain yourself...!” You squealed quietly as you tightened your fingers on the ropes. You use all your strength to pull yourself up and finally sit on the board, which squats under your weight.

Your cheeks are hot and visibly red; his because of the sudden exertion, yours through embarrassment… and maybe endearment.

And delight. Few men would tear through the wilderness to put you on the swing.

“I know you're thinking about something untrue," William says. His eyes are now on the same level as yours, and once again you can admire his features from a different perspective.

His hands stay on both sides of you, clamping the ropes. The swing moves under his force, and your legs move further away from the ground.

“So,” William begins again, moving away from you and letting gravity do the work. You start to sway slightly. “What books did you read as a child?”

“Please don't think I've been... uh, like this all along,” you said quickly. William laughs under his breath, and you lower your gaze to the ground. “I mean... I borrowed some books from my neighbours, but I mostly read what was on the shelves in my parents' house.”

“Was it a big house?”.

“Neither big, neither small. It's not comparable to your residence, of course,” you take a moment to think about it. “But every room there is cosy. I still think it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

“More than a library?”

“…They are both gorgeous and outstanding.”

“But if you had to choose one?”

“Don’t ask so difficult questions, please,” you say with a chuckle that William shares.

At that moment a rustle comes from the bushes near you. It is a loud sound, as if staged.

By the bushes, at a very respectful and polite distance, stands Fred, his clothes in no way tarnished, although he seems to be coming from a part of the garden where you have to make your way through the low branches.

He nods in greeting you and waits for the permission to speak.

William helps you jump off the swing and, after taking you under his arm, allows Fred to come closer. He looks at him significantly to weigh his words.

You couldn’t catch the boy staring, but you feel his gaze on you when he opens his mouth.

“We found Mary Hale.”

CHAPTER VII

You hurry into the living room of William's residence. There you find Mary, extremely exhausted, wrapped in a blanket in a large armchair, drinking. She looks very different from the last time you saw her. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her face is almost morbidly pale. Mary's clothes have never been so crumpled before.

“Mary...!” You call out and take her into a tight embrace, glad she is back. Safe. You might not be particularly close, but you’ve been still worried about her.

“[Name]...” Mary struggles to reply, not knowing what kind of words she could share with you. She seems not even to have the strength to reciprocate the hug.

You move away from her and tears create in the corners of your eyes. “You’re okay...! “

She smiles uncomfortably.

“We have notified your family and Mr Hearst as you requested,” Louis announces, pouring tea into Mary's cup.

The girl nodded and seemed to want to say something more, but before that, someone burst into the room.

“Mary! Thank God you're here!” August runs up to her, grabbing her shoulders. She sends him a weak smile, but it dies as August turns his attention to you. “Oh, [Name]! How good that you are safe too. I was really worried when you disappeared so suddenly.”

Mary's face clouds over. She's the one who's been through hell the last few days, so why are you the one who's focused attention on...? Are you and August Hearst...?

She sighs, and William can’t help but notice the dissatisfaction in her eyes. The case is not going his way. He had particularly told Mary that they had found her thanks to Mr Hearst, and she—as he predicted—already took an interest in him. He was a good, wealthy, honest man who had “saved” her. 

However, he doesn't seem to notice. His attention is focused on you, which inwardly irritates William. 

“I’m fine, August... I was safe at the professor's side, as you can see,” you smile convincingly. August looks with a dull gaze at William and nods. He turns to Mary.

“What has happened to you Mary...?” August asks. “Suddenly a strange anonymous message came to me....”

“Miss, [Name],” you hear Louis' voice near you. “I need you to leave for a while. This is important information in the investigation, and we believe that knowing what has happened might put you in danger.”

“Is… it really that dangerous?” You ask with disbelief and worry.

“We know you care about Miss Mary, yet…”

“A-alright,” you bow slightly and take your leave.

Whatever the meeting was about, you never found out.

From August, you’ve learned that Mary Hale does not want to return to the family home; she will have the week off from classes and is required to stay in another room.

When asked if this meant you were going back to your dorm, William shook his head.

“Miss Hale needs peace,” he replied, and you slowly concluded that you were too low-energy a person to disturb someone like Mary. William smiled. “Unfortunately, but you can be very distracting. She will have arranged a room especially to look after her.”

…You wonder why you couldn't have had the same privilege when you needed a single room as well.

“Miss [Name],” August calls. He seems a little paler than before and is carefully eyeing William as he speaks. The professor sips his tea calmly. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me back to the academy tomorrow?”

You smile at him. “Su—"

...And William answers for you. “Unfortunately Mr Hearst, I must ask you to be present fifteen minutes before class starts. Our lessons must go on, and we've accumulated a bit of a backlog over the last week, don’t you think?”

“Professor Moriarty," August’s voice is filled with a firmness you have never heard from him before. You look at him in surprise which escalates when he gently moves closer to you so that the sleeves of his suit lightly brush against the folds of your dress.

You freeze in place, knowing that whichever way you moved you would find yourself too close to August or William. You hold your breath as if its irregular rhythm betrays your tension.

“Professor Moriarty,” August appeals again, feeling that his words are not getting through to William, who stares at him. Although the chill gaze isn’t directed at you, a shiver comes down your spine. “I don't want to sound rude, but shouldn't you, as a supervisor, be concerned with the safe return of Miss Mary Hale to the dormitory?”

William smiles, although the air around him goes cold.

August stands up quickly and, somewhat forcing you to go with the rules of etiquette extends his hand, which you have to accept.

Your hand finds its way under August's arm. You two—although you not so willingly—leave.

How are you going to return to William’s residence now? Maybe you will stay on campus, or should you get a carriage??

“You have no idea how deep an emotion you evoke in me.”

…?

These are August's words when he considers that you have already moved a fair distance away. His eyes twinkle as he says it, a mottled blush sets on his cheeks and Mr Hearst himself seems like a character straight out of a book.

You can even sum the plot to the current point: a new student and a shy student are assigned to a class together; the charismatic boy quickly falls in love with the typical girl, and she slowly opens up just for him... How many times have you read something with a similar trope?

Not that you want to flatter yourself—being the protagonist of such a classic romance is a compliment, after all, right?—But it's so hard not to substitute August for this gentlemanly extrovert who wins girls' hearts with the blink of his eye.

And the fact that he was now in front of you and stammering over the words he was about to say makes you suddenly stop.

“August, I—"

“The situation with Mary made me realize that… If something like that would ever happen to you, I would go insane with worry.”

You fail to think of anything you can say. Well, you always wanted to have a romance, right?

But…

Every place that William ever kissed you, starts to burn.

“I... Unfortunately, but...”

You read so many romances; there was bound to be some rejectionist dialogue in those. What did they sound like?

“I am... I am truly honoured, Mr Hearst, but...”

The knot in your throat makes it difficult to say the words.

August knows what you want to say; his grip on your hand tightens involuntarily, and a small wave of panic floods your body. He’s doing it unconsciously, he’s in pain right now, but… 

You wouldn't be able to break out of his embrace alone.

“Miss [Name].”

Your heads quickly turn towards the voice whose owner turned out to be Louis. He bowed elegantly and, putting his hand to his chest, continued to speak.

“Brother William wanted me to inform you that the carriage is already waiting for you.”

August cuts in.

“I am sorry, but we agreed that Miss [Name] is coming back with me.”

Louis squints at him, unhappy William’s words aren’t accepted just like that.

“The plans have changed. I was told to bring Miss [Name] back.”

You feel on your skin the reluctance with which August releases you from his embrace. Sparks of guilt glitter in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch uncontrollably. Immense regret pours over your heart as you realise that you have failed to reject him without hurting him.

...On the other hand, would it ever be possible?

August's gaze did not leave you until you got into the carriage. Only then he shakes himself off and with an abrupt step walks away. You suspect your next encounter will not be very pleasant. You’ve just lost a friend.

“Were you willing to accept his proposal?”

You turn to William, who sits opposite you and waits for your reaction. Your skirt is voluminous enough to hide your shaking heart.

Maybe if Mary hadn't liked August so much and if William James Moriarty hadn't been your teacher, maybe then... No.

You shake your head. “I adore him as a friend.”

“So please don’t feel sorry," he says in a calm voice and with a gentle smile offers comfort. “I will make sure that only friendship remains between you.”

...

...

...?

August Hearst has no idea how he got into this situation.

Ten minutes ago he came to meet Professor Moriarty, who had told him the previous day that he would need to speak to him about the overall backlog.

He never expected William to serve him this kind of lesson.

It's really hard to see what's going on outside when you're locked in a bookcase. Only the gap between the wings of the door allowed him a peek at what was going on inside the hall. He has a view of the blackboard, the very centre of the auditorium and the desks, including his own, where he had sat until a few days ago when he had lectures.

He could feel the thick ribbons rubbing against his wrists and ankles; one of them served to cover his mouth. He can’t say anything or move, but he knows that if he makes too loud a sound, Professor Moriarty, who is fully aware of his presence—as he was the one who has put him here—will kick him out of school.

He didn't even need to warn him personally—the unspoken prohibition hung in the air as soon as William closed the wardrobe.

“William?”

Oh no.

August really doesn’t want to hear your voice. His heart has yet to be rehabilitated. He isn’t sure if a whole year will be enough.

On the other hand, he so badly wants you to come up to that bookcase now. August is convinced that the reason he is in this situation is your relationship with Professor Moriarty. He feels the sting of hatred for the professor, but the gentleness with which William handled you made him unable to consider him inferior in this situation.

“[Name],” Since when does Professor Moriarty's voice sound so warm? August wonders in his mind. “I'm sorry to call you out at such an early hour, but... we're both aware that you also need a repetition of exam material.”

“Of course,” you move towards the chair. William lightly catches your hand in his and brings you closer.

“Today we’ll have a special lesson for a special student,” he replies with amusement at the question in his eyes. “I have tasks already prepared for you. Starting from the beginning...”

You grab a piece of chalk and stand in front of the blackboard. William, along with a file of notes, walks behind your back and saunters in circles.

He dictates the questions. You immediately get to work.

The pattern? You already remember it after you failed the exam six months ago. Since then, it has haunted you even in your dreams.

And calculating it? …Maybe you’ve got a little problem with numbers.

William's drawing of perfect straight strokes presents an irregular triangle with three signed side lengths and its heights.

...The first thing you need to do is to use the cosine theorem. You needed a cosine, an angle.

...

...

...

How were the angles calculated?

“William... Uh... I think I'm hugely deficient… Today,” you sigh, lowering the chalk and stepping away from the blackboard. William casts a glance at the blackboard and then at you. “Could I have a hint...?”

A smile stretches his lips.

“But of course,” he replied, walking up to you. 

You hold your hand out to him, from which he takes the chalk but also brings itself closer. His fingers intertwine with yours, and your face is right next to his. He leans down, his lips brushing your collarbone and inhales your perfume.

Sweet. Could it be a rose?

You’re matching now.

He nibbles on your skin, and you gasp quietly in surprise. Slowly, you begin to get used to his touch, but the moment you start to crave it he lifts his head so that he meets your eyes.

“That is the fee for the hint," he flashes you a charming smile. So now he is demanding something in return for his help? Was that the purpose of this repetition?

“…William!” you say, feeling your body overheating. This was supposed to be a lesson! A repetition! And you are going to leave it with grace and knowledge, even if you had to lie about whether you liked the whole event or not. “T… this is still a public place!”

He doesn’t let you move away. He teases you by closing his behind your back.

“Please don't worry. It's not like anyone can see us.”

You blush even harder and William casts a fleeting glance towards the wardrobe.

“And if one’s watching, let them watch.”

CHAPTER VIII

You sigh, looking out of the window. The weather today is not spoiling anyone, and the constant rain puts you in a nostalgic mood. Just to think that not so long ago you were just an ordinary student with a slightly over-exuberant imagination and an obsession with romance...

And now? The former may not have changed, but you feel as if you have become the main character of the novella you loved so much. Being an ordinary townswoman, you have gained the attention of your handsome professor-aristocrat, as well as from your colleague... It seemed too... unrealistic. Fictional.

Your relationship with William is... Exactly what is it? Neither of you ever uttered "I love you" or proposed a relationship, yet your interactions...

You blush at the memory of the scene an hour ago. Your actions hint at a close relationship, yet deep inside you feel apprehension. What if your unspoken feelings don't last? If you are going to be left alone? Would you be able to survive this? Will your heart be able to bear such a disappointment? 

You shake your head, returning your gaze to the notebook. This is not the time for such thoughts, but nevertheless, your hands tightened on the material of your skirt. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the rest of the lecture.

"William is truly amazing, you think as you watch him. Not only does he teach maths at university, he also helps Mary and you. Your gazes cross for a moment and you reflexively look at your notebook, but there are just minutes left before the end of the class.

William announces the end and the students start to pack their things into their bags. 

“Miss [Name],” you hear him after everyone else exits the class. You turned around, looking warmly at William. “I would like to talk to you today about something very important to me.”

***

You are unable to find out where William is leading you. He dismisses your every question like a politician, but in return for not answering, he places a kiss on your finger joints. You don’t break out of his embrace or even comment on it, even when you get into the carriage and his hand is still clamped on yours.

“Aren't you cold?” He asks, looking at the overcast sky. The sun has hidden behind the rain-threatening clouds after you got into the carriage. The wheels rattle against the stones even faster. He wants to hide in some inn as soon as possible, but he cannot ignore the aristocrat's wish or his money.

You shake your head at William's question. You are warm.

Your vehicle doesn’t stop until forty minutes later, under the old church. It is tall and built of heavy stone. The grey sky gives it an underwhelming atmosphere, but the beautiful buildings and decorations that lasted for many years reinforce your belief that it had once been a majestic and beautiful building. It still has its charm and solemnity in its appearance, but you can’t imagine anyone choosing it over the local cathedrals.

William pushes open the massive wooden door. They opened with a quiet squeak and immediately ushered you into the damper, cooler and quieter air. The raindrops were already almost inaudible compared to the sound of your footsteps.

He leads you to the confessional; he doesn’t even glance towards the altar illuminated by flashes of lightning, or towards the pews, the wood of which was indeed soaked with water. They are dark and smell of earth and the weeds that grow around them.

He seats you where a confessor would normally sit. You protest silently, but William proves to have a better understanding of human physics, for he does not use much force, but still seats you deep inside the confessional. You don’t even dare to flinch and look anxiously at the door as if someone is about to reprimand you for your behaviour.

“May He be praised.”

William walks across to the kneeler. He crosses himself without saying anything and leans towards the grating of the confessional. You are sure he could feel your gaze on him, even though you try to avert it from him. Apparently, he doesn’t mind, and just demands your attention, because he nods as if agreeing to whatever you are going to do now.

“I know the text for the confession, but it can't look like that now,” he says rather loudly, not like a repentant man who is supposed to confess his sins. “I am not looking for forgiveness here. I am not looking for repentance, although perhaps you, [Name], could be my path to purification. I... came here to share my sins with you, because I love you dearly,” your heart skips a beat, “but in order to keep you in my life, I need you to let you get to every part of it. I will keep you safe, of course, but I must make you aware of something.”

You nod but are too nervous to interrupt him. It is a gesture so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, but William notices it. He goes on:

“I am.... a person who pursues an objective regardless of the means, as long as someone close to me is not involved. I do this by means of a certain service of a crime consultant and I clear the world of fake people.”

Here he looks at you. You stare at him as if under the spell, but you don’t really know how to answer him.

“This morning,” he continues, “certain aristocrat was murdered... I believe you already know the news, “he says because your eyes glaze over in recognition. “I would not kill an innocent man, [Name]. That man was notorious on the black market. He had four murders of girls as young as twelve or thirteen. They died in torture, all because of him. Did he deserve to live after all of that?”

You keep silent. You feel a huge lump in your throat, and you can’t think of anything you could say. Tears of unhappiness and shock run down your cheeks. Obviously, the person you had to love was a serial killer, just like in the books.

“Did you...” You whisper out, trying to not let yourself sob. “...They... The rest... Louis, Fred... Moran... James... They all...?”

William puts his hand to the grating of the confessional as if he has forgotten that a wall separates you and he cannot wipe away your tears.

“They are all involved,” William confirms. “I want them to have a better world. I want them to... live in it, and be fulfilled in it. And the same I wish for you. Especially you.”

“...And what... what about you?” - You ask, catching a certain nostalgia in his voice. Nonetheless, you are already becoming well acquainted with William's tones, having spent a lot of time listening to every tone of his voice with relish.

“I don't know.”

Here he hesitates, for the first time in a long while since arriving at the church.

“But... Now, I know that I will do everything to make you live in this world,” he said. “Together with me.”

He got up from his kneeler and approached you. This time he doesn’t kneel but bows his head as he pulls a black box from the deep pocket of his coat. He opens it gently and on the velvet cushion shows an elegant, large ruby set into a silver ring. Its colour immediately makes you think of William's eyes.

Now that you stare at it, it reminds you of the colour of the blood.

“This ring is my being, my promises, my future,” he says, and the stone glows scarlet as if to confirm his words. “My name. If you accept it... I will consider that you accept me and my sins.”

You don’t immediately raise your hand. You would have done so just twenty minutes ago when you were still in the vehicle and you were happily lurching to William's side, resting your head on his shoulder. Now it isn’t just your maths teacher standing in front of you.

Now there is a Napoleon of Crime, one of the worst criminals in London. Your heart is awfully heavy, but you know that this is what a secret of such importance should weigh. It hadn't yet crossed your mind that by him sharing this secret, your choices were suddenly limited.

But you raise your hand nonetheless. It stops over the ring. You don’t know now whether the future you had been anticipating will actually be as beautiful as you have dreamed. By taking this ring, you were saying goodbye to your fantasies since you first learned of love.

The ruby is perfect for your finger; it slides in neatly and stays in place.

You tear up at this sight.

“Everything will be fine," William holds you against his chest. His hands continuously stroke your hair, slowly calming your sobs. It takes a long time though, but eventually the touch, his squat silhouette seemed to warm you up in this cold church. Yes, William's gestures were always warm, though his hands were usually cold. “I won't let anything bad happen to you. I will love you always,” and here his voice changed to a whisper. It sounds like a confession for the first time. “I beg you to remember that. Amen.”

CHAPTER IX

You have returned home. (You remember how warm you felt in William's embrace as the carriage wheels clattered against the cobbles on the way back to his estate).

William took his brothers with him to the study to discuss a matter relating to you. (You blushed at Moran’s whistling, having noticed the ring on your finger. Everyone congratulated you, but they didn't look surprised).

James handed you some cosmetics he'd bought in town. (Unrelated to the engagement, but they smelled divine).

You went to bed.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner.

You spent whole days at William's side. You didn't even make it back to university, although William continued to promise that you would be there again in the future.

...

It couldn't have been that long, could it?

Your book, “The Fruit of Infinity”, which you were so engrossed in, was last shelved in your dorm room... how long ago? When was the last time you even had the presence of mind to get a hold of a fictional world once more and get away from the present one? Too many things have been occupying your head.

The first was your wedding.

...

Huh.

When have you agreed to this? When did your parents have time to allow this? When did Louis have time to agree to this? The latter two would fight against the world if you had said anything about a relationship with William at the beginning of your acquaintance, just to keep you from getting married.

When did their resolve soften?

You aren’t going to talk them out of it. You know that everything that has happened to you so far was just a stroke of luck that you had accidentally come across. If only you have chosen a different class, a different major in college… Surely nothing has happened because of your non-existent romance skills.

(Although Moran did offer to teach you a little something if you wanted to flesh out your personality).

(William protested).

You don’t yet know how your life will play out from then on. Is William going to separate you from his plans for the London aristocracy? Keeping you completely unaware will be impossible and that’s why William has revealed his plans to you, but…

“Will's just worried about you,” James says, patting you on the shoulder. He listened intently to your worries, which you have been trying to keep to yourself lately; now that you know how much responsibility rests on the shoulders of everyone in the house, you don’t want to bother them with your silly problems. Bottling your feelings too quickly was breaking you from the inside, and James took you to the gardens as soon as he noticed your first insincere smile. (That's something you'll have to practice more). “The world in revolves is truly brutal. And you, my dear, are very fragile.”

“I don't want to be that fragile," you lowered your head with a slight pout.

“Oh, dearest!” James strokes your head again. You'd noticed that he is in the habit of fixing your hair and you like the childish joy of being cared for like that. “I'll take care of you, alright? Let's give William some more time to enjoy that rosy, adorable you at the wedding. And afterwards, we'll make you quite a weed to fend for yourself and know that people like Moran are low-key!”

You smile slightly. “...I bet you would be an excellent professor on that topic.”

He covers his mouth with his hands and looks at you with pride.

“Is that sarcasm, I hear?” he sighs with delight, taking you in one arm in his embrace. “My dear, I see progress, and in a very good direction.”

…

You guess you won’t mind a family like that.

…

The other thing that pulled you away from the books and the now all too fictional reality was this terrible fear.

Your life will change as soon as you marry William. It is inevitable and knowable, and normally the changes after the wedding are the ones people usually wait for.

You'll have a loved one by your side, plans for your life, and your dream romance with the antagonist (they always have something in them that the main characters lack)... And all of England chasing you.

News of Count Caretling's murder was everywhere. The information about his death is incomplete, always accompanied by a reference to a natural disease that no one had ever known about before. You don’t dare to ask William if he is responsible.

“Dearest,” he told you, sipping his tea. “You can still back out of everything. Just a word of promise that you will not reveal anything about our identity. Most likely, your brothers would force you to move deeper into Europe or to America—your whole family could go with you safely, I promise you. Would that be a more appealing solution?”

He said it quite neutrally. After that, you’ve been frustrated with William, especially as you slowly started to see the tension in the smile and the artificial indifference in those words.

You left his office genuinely angry.

And now you are on your way to America.

...

The theoretical road to America. Or some country in Europe. You haven’t decided yet.

...

You are on your way to travel the world then. With no luggage, no funds, no knowledge of parents, fiancé or friends. In a wedding dress, walking briskly across the seashore knowing there must be a port somewhere. Yes, you're prepared to travel the world.

Your watch indicated that your wedding ceremony would begin in fifteen minutes. You know there have been cases where brides had been far, far too late for their wedding, too engaged in preparing themselves for their special day. If no one has noticed that it's too quiet in your dressing room and they haven't kicked down the door or climbed through the window then you should still have some time.

You can feel your eyes burning, and it’s not because of the sun that shines down on you.

Why are you giving up on your dreams?

Your legs ache and your heart feet heavier with every step. The sand on the beach tries to pull you underground and some part of you wants to let yourself collapse.

You ran away from William James Moriarty because you feared for your life. And not only yours.

If someone stumbles across William's criminal trial and connects the dots to you—would you be able to lie to save your life? Is this more valuable than all those dead? Would you let yourself pretend to be an innocent maiden from a wealthy manor or betray them if you gave anyone a wrong impression? If you left this world in the name of William’s ideals, would your family be punished as well?

You always thought love would help you face anything until you landed in the current situation.

You aren’t able to admit it to William, although in your head you are putting together scenarios of your explanation should he decide to catch up with you.

When he decides to catch up with you.

He appears out of nowhere and you know it must have been due to someone following you. You feel silly with the thought when you thought you had been so clever and discreet in your escape. You have, after all, met Fred and Jack.

William is dressed in a wedding suit; completely black, elegant and unsuited to the beach. You don’t match it either, but as he stands next to you now, you know you suit each other. At least with the clothes.

“So you decided to quit, [Name].”

“...I don't want to put anyone at risk,” you say after a moment, but you struggle to get any words out under William's gaze, which isn’t warm anymore. What were you expecting? “And I also have a selfish reason. William, I won't be able to live a life like you. I— I want to help people, but I don't want to sacrifice my life! Nothing— I haven't achieved anything in my life yet!”

You can’t hold back the tears. They are pouring down your cheeks and you regret like never before in your life that emotions can sway you like that.

William is standing close enough for the hem of your dress to touch the fabric of his trousers, but he does not attempt to deepen the contact.

“My life is inseparable from the death of others,” he whispers, and because the beach is unusually quiet, you hear everything in his voice that you love so much. “You [Name], on the other hand... You remind me of life itself. You are full of it. You can't hide what you feel. You care about each person, and I care about the public well-being. You value everyone and I can’t do that.”

“…You know that's not true,” you say resolutely and with anger in your voice. “William, you put the whole world before yourself. You teach people and want to build things with your own hands. I'm the one who has this selfish desire to have you in every piece... This- I'm the one who messed it all up.”

“Then help me fix the world, if that’s what you want.”

His red eyes are piercing you deeply. Your body fills with a mixture of very different feelings, and William is now allowing you to release them all. You use them up to muster up the courage to say your vows.

“I want you to be mine. And me to be yours. So I can’t give you to the world.”

You grab him by his suit and jerk him towards you. Under the sudden force, he leans over and bumps into you.

You steal a kiss from him.

It stands apart from all the others you have ever shared with him (and those, however, were not too many (in reality. Not in imagination)). It is more violent than all the others because of the sudden desperation. 

And then William regains control. He lifts his head higher, just enough to keep your lips from parting, but now you have to exert some effort to reach him and stand on your toes. 

You have to make up for your running away.

And you can do so by giving your heart, soul and mind entirely to William.

In exchange, you can keep his life to yourself.

EPILOGUE

“Hmm~ So now it's Mrs Moriarty, no?”

You laugh with a fiery blush on your face at this remark.

You’ve been embarrassed since everyone turned towards the huge doors when the bride and groom were a good half hour late for their wedding. Their outfits were in the sand, the bride's make-up was smudged, the groom’s suit stretched, and they both walked down the aisle without any remorse, with a determined stride.

“You are already the subject of many rumours,” comments James, sitting next to William. He adds in a thinner voice and with exaggerated drama, “Such shortcomings in your outfits on your wedding day, they said. And yet they walked in with such superiority as if their tardiness was nothing, they said.”

“It wasn't too bad,” says Moran, disturbed that he can’t light a cigarette in the cab. He grins slightly in William's direction. “But I'm glad this wedding wasn't perfect! Now everyone, we have some top-tier teasing material on William!”

“Finally something he wasn’t a gentleman in," you say.

“The bride who tried to run away from her wedding was also at fault, I think,” William replies, not looking at you but squeezing your hand.

You squeezed it tighter. “A bride who had a very good reason to do so.”

“So the groom shouldn’t have been chasing her?”

“He should have. Now she finally has a purpose. I think the groom should beware of what a wonderful wife she will become.”

“He won’t mind, as his wife is already wonderful.”

Everyone listens to the exchange in silence, or maybe you don’t pay attention to anyone, completely lost in William who lets himself look at you and gets spellbound by you as well. 

Louis sighs, with some kind of relief.

“So brother has finally found his happiness, hm...~” tag: @elvyshiarieko

#eoeoeoe that's one long fic #idk if it has a chance of being popular here #but i hope all thos who were waiting for it will enjoy the fic fully! #william james moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #ynm #moriarty the patriot x reader #william x reader #fluff #angst #mtp #mtp x reader

[moriartyluver]

Hiii can you write William Moriarty x reader when she is dancer for some wealthy man who invited Moriartys for dinner and after dinner reader showed up to dance and she was uncomfortable and Moriartys saw it. So after a few days she came to their place and she wanted to know if they had something with killing her boss(noble guy). And after like 6 months living with them(they asked her to join the group) Y/n confessed her feelings for William after there meeting infront of everyone.(Louis and Bond helped her to confess)

Im hoping that you will write this, have a great day and be safe please

A/N: I’m going to be brutally honest, I’ve never liked the ballerina or dancer trope in moriarty the patriot fics but I will see what I can do dear! I hope you stay safe too and thank you <3

Warnings: abuse, classism, murder & death, just the moriarty brothers being mass murderers NOT PROOF READ!!

Character: William James Moriarty from Moriarty The Patriot x fem! dancer! Reader

Genre: miscellaneous

Prompt: above^^

format: oneshot

“We have a dancer, you know, Count Moriarty.” Your boss said to the oldest moriarty son.

“Is that so? She must be talented to have fit your idealistic expectations,” Albert smiled.

The duke who had hired your a few years before called out your name. When you hadn’t arrived immediately, he called for you again, this time in an angry whisper. You rushed into the room on his command. The three brothers had just finished their expensive meal, something you could only dream of.

When you walked in, the middle brother, William seemed to be staring at you. He was analysing your timid body language and frail form. His scarlet eyes managed to notice the bruises on your arms and upper body that you tried to hide with make up. He deduced that this noble hadn’t been treating you kindly at all. Far from it, actually.

You were nervous and the handsome man looking at you, maybe even judging you, had just made you more frightened. Your arms were folded, unconsciously protecting yourself from the potential danger that was your short tempered boss. He wasn’t beyond telling you off in front of guests and had even thrown a glass at you during a performance after you accidentally stumbled while dancing.

You had grown up in a lower class family. Your father and mother would bring home such a small sum of money to your family, after working in factories every day. The work conditions were awful and you knew that.

Your father wanted to send you off to the factory along with the rest of your siblings once you were of age but your passion was to dance. You wanted to be a dancer and live a life that your parents couldn’t even dream of, so when you were told you could join the circus as a dancer, you leapt at the opportunity, bidding farewell to your angry parents in hope of a new life.

Unfortunately, the conditions in the circus were not ideal. You would wake up everyday, hoping each performance would be your last. You prayed every night for God to kill you or bring you something better. Something that never seemed to arrive.

After only a few years of being in the hell hole you knew as the circus, you were sold to a rich duke who needed some entertainment in his life. The circus manager had given you to him without warning and lied to him, saying you were the most valuable member of the circus troupe, which you had known wasn’t true. You couldn’t even get a single meal daily. Clearly they were just lying to get money out of the noble.

The years of torment didn’t end at the circus gates, but got even worse. Every day, you trained harder and harder, hoping that you could maybe reached the big stage some day, even if it was the smallest of roles. You would keep praying that someone would save you from this nightmare. Anyone.

And they had arrived that dinner while you fumbled about, hoping to make the best performance possible.

The three watched in awe of your skills. You not being a professional seemed like a disservice. Someone with your talent should be treated as such. Still, it was evident you were uncomfortable. You couldn’t maintain eye contact and you seemed so unconfident. It wouldn’t take a genius to realise you were terrified of your boss.

Once they left the dinner, the brother discussed what could be done to eliminate the noble, seeing as they planned on killing him off before the dinner due to other claims of abuse from his servants, so bad that even other cruel nobles began criticising him for it.

You coming to them week later was the final straw.

You managed to sneak out while the duke was gone and found your way over to the Moriarty Manor. It wasn’t difficult to find but your legs were certainly aching by the time you had knocked on their front door. You had heard from your fellow servants of a crime counsellor nearby. Some had even discussed going to him to murder the duke. After a few days of research, you realised where you needed to go.

The door opened to reveal the youngest brother, Louis. He looked at you through his round glasses. What were you here for?

He guided you to the lounge and called for William to come down from his study. Albert was working at the trade company that day so he wasn’t present in the manor at that moment. Once William’s red eyes landed on you, he already knew what you were here for.

“I want you to kill my boss..please.”

You had fantasised about this moment through your time under the dukes authority. You didn’t even need William to plan anything for you. That is how much you thought about it.

“Your wish is our command, Miss (last name)”

You explained all the hardships you had gone through with teary eyes to him and he could only look at you with sympathy. If William could hug you, he would have.

The day of the dukes death came shortly after your encounter. You planned to have him fall down the stairs after tripping on some unseen object. It was a realistic death and was easily passed off as an accident. This happened while William and Albert came to visit the duke during a tea party.

Maybe he didn’t trip on anything though. Maybe William slipped and let his emotions get the best of him, causing him to push the duke down the stairs while they were being taken to the upper floor.

Once the duke had died, you managed to slip away, unnoticed and been taken in by the Lords of crime, who offered you stay in the Moriarty Manor.

Months had passed and you managed to get along with the other members well. Sebastian, who saw you as a younger sister, had taken you under his wing and trained you to become a fine assassin. You were successful countless times and felt yourself heat up each time William praised you for your hard work.

Bonde and Louis had also taken a liking to you. The former saw his old self in you, a girl striving to pursue her passion while Louis was fond of you because you seemed to be the only one who could ever make William take care of himself.

Almost everyone could tell that both you and William had feelings for each other. You could barely look each other in the eye without blushing furiously and getting flustered. That’s why, when you had confided in Louis about your feelings (and Bonde somehow managed to overhear you, then also joining in on the conversation) they had both urged you to confess your feelings to the emotionally constipated man. Even though they could tell he loved you dearly, he didn’t seem to want to tell you his feelings in fear that you may reject him.

6 months after William had decided to take you in, you dragged him to the rose gardens, where you planned to confess to him.

“William, I…I’m going to get straight to the point..” you could feel yourself grow warmer with every word “I’m in love with you and I want you to know that..I always hoped that I’d just be dead..or given something better.. a better life that never seemed to come..but I think now it has, and it’s all thanks to you!”

Cue the soft lips pressed against your cheek.

“I love you too, (name).”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #William moriarty #mtp x reader #mtp William #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #fanfic #moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #ynm William #yuumori x reader #william moriarty x reader #William James Moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader

[discodreaming]

#one piece x reader #x reader #fairy tail x reader #reader insert #devil may cry x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #jjba x reader #rwby x reader #edens zero x reader #dgm x reader #psycho pass x reader #owari no seraph x reader #mtp x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #fate/ x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #obey me x reader #kingdom hearts x reader #genshin impact x readert #genshin x reader #final fantasy x reader #dbh x reader #assassin's creed x reader

[izaanagi]

hey could you write with mycroft who is needy but the reader and him are in his office?

You have to swat his hands one, two, three times away from your waist before scowling annoyingly at Mycroft’s stern face, lined with absolute deadpan - and being his greatest asset, as he’d lie straight in your face and you wouldn’t know it.

But this time is different: Mycroft just tugs at you, wanting you to sit on his lap while he looks over official documents you likely should not be even aware exist, wanting to feel you close. He grabs at your thighs, your ass, your shoulders and it does not put him to an ease.

“Mycroft…,” you call out, but he’s perfectly capable of doing two separate things at the same time, and ignoring something he likely does not want to hear is not more difficult that nailing a distance target with a weapon of choice. You try again calling out, but he just just deposits you on his thighs, and wounds like a cobra around your middle, making you unable to move, less even stand.

He nips at your bare skin, as his eyes continue following the words on the documents - and his fingers trace silently the path of sun through the valleys of your body. He hovers over your nipples, making them harden unconsciously, only to proceed further down, hips bruising at the strength on the grip.

His cock is hard under you, and Mycroft moves his hips tentatively, a soft huff leaving his lips. He grinds and rocks against your body, not caring one bit of looking as deliciously smitten, gone, ambitiously clingy. Mycroft is not one to really care about appearances, after all.

It stops once there is a knock on the door, and you know Mycroft is so close to snap and grab your wrists in his hands, just to mercilessly fuck you raw.

When he answers, his voice stays steady.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Holmes, the official report has just come in…,” you do not hear the rest, as Mycroft tightens the hold on you and tries his best to understand how exactly he is going to work through his boner, without you giving any ounce of help.

#ynm smut #Mycroft Holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes smut #mycroft smut #ynm x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp x reader #mtp smut #.drabble

[fairy-writes]

TAKE A REST, LOVE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: Anonymous

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Prompt: Guiding their lover back to bed when they’re sick (Action Prompt #6)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader

Notes: LET WILLIAM BE THE LITTLE SPOON OKAY

This is for my 1K followers event! It’s going on between June 8th and June 22nd!

__________________________________________________________________________

It was a well-known fact that William was a bit of a workaholic. 

He worked constantly, sometimes even through the night, just to finish his plans and put them into action. It wasn’t that strange to see his office lit with candles and gas lamps at odd hours of the night. 

If you pressed your ear against the door, you could hear his pen scratching against parchment and papers being shuffled with the occasional sigh as William ran into something of a mental block. 

It was times like this that you stepped in. 

It was times like this when everyone in the household asked you to step in.

So when Fred Porlock came knocking on your door at three in the morning, you weren’t all that surprised. 

You follow the younger boy up the stairs and down the hallway to the third door on the left. 

“He’s in his study. He hasn’t come out all day.” Fred had told you on the way up, and when you arrived at your lover’s study, you set a hand on his shoulder.

“Go back to bed, Fred. I’ll handle this.” You say gently, and he nods hesitantly but takes your word and goes back down the hall toward his chambers. 

A quick knock on William’s study door reveals nothing. No calling you inside, no refusing entry, nothing. 

You frown, open the double doors, and discover why there wasn’t any talking. 

William was asleep.

His arms were crossed and supporting his head, rumpling a few of his papers, but he obviously didn’t care. Even in his sleep, he looked stressed. You could tell in the furrow in his brows and the crease of his lips.

Your heart hurts for him. 

Your footsteps are silent, and you tug William’s robe closer around your frame as you creep up on your lover. 

He starts, eyes flying open with a startled inhale as soon as you touch his shoulder. He sits up, only to meet your eyes and relax. He leans back in his chair and rubs at his eyes, looking for all the world as if he had just been planning for several hours straight. 

He likely was. 

Plus, he had grading to do from school. He had mentioned something about a mathematics exam needing to be graded.

“How long was I sleeping?” William mumbles, exhaustion still thick in his voice. You hum as you go behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, pressing in with your thumbs to massage the knots in the muscles. He leans back and sighs in relief,

“It’s three in the morning. How long have you been working?” You ask softly, and he makes a noncommittal noise, obviously not wanting to tell you. 

When you ask again, this time more gently, he leans his head back to look at you with tired eyes,

“Since after dinner. But this must be done, so I can’t stop yet.” He replies, and you let out a deep sigh,

“You’re working yourself to death, William.” You chastise him but don’t stop rubbing his back and shoulders. He shakes his head,

“I’m fine. You should go to bed, my love. I’ll be in in a moment.” At this, you shake your own head. 

“Not happening. If I leave you now, you’ll just keep working.” You say and comb your fingers through his hair, your brow furrowing in concern when you feel his forehead. 

He’s burning up.

“William, you’re sick.” You say, but William simply sits forward, picking up his pen and preparing to write. 

“I said I’m fine.” He says but stops when you pluck the writing instrument from his hand and hold it out of his reach. 

“Come to bed. You need it.” You say gently, and he watches you with an unimpressed stare. He holds out a hand for his pen, but you don’t give it back just yet. 

Instead, you take a seat on his lap, leaning your forehead against his and feeling just how hot and sweaty his skin is getting. William enjoys the affection readily, wrapping an arm about your waist to keep you close. He closes his eyes, his breath puffing against your mouth.

“I have to get this done.” He tries once more. You lean in and peck his lips,

“And you can do it in the morning. You’re burning up, William. Come take a rest, love.” You say, and he watches you with half-closed eyes. 

He’s struggling even to keep his eyes open. 

So when he relents, you gladly take his hand and lead him back to bed. You take off his robe and hang it up before sliding in beside William as soon as he’s changed into night clothes. He welcomes your arm around his waist and your kiss on the back of his neck with ease. 

And he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

#William James Moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #ynm william #ynm x reader #ynm william x reader #mtp x reader #mtp william x reader #mtp william #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #fairy writes #fairy 1000 followers

[kanroji-san]

Mitsuri!Reader/Y/n AU

James: Reminder that your 'boyfriend' built like a bitch!*has a bouquet of red roses and on a knee*

Sebastian:...WHAT THE-

James: SHUT YOUR ASS UP!!!*snaps back at him and smiles at the you while kissing your hand*You should be my girlfriend instead~

Mitsuri!Y/n: *Blinks with red face*...

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #ynm #mtp x reader #mtp #moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot x demon slayer #mitsuri!reader #james bond #sebastian moran #ynm james bond #ynm sebastian moran #mtp sebastian moran #mtp james bond #james bond x reader #mtp james bond x reader #sebastian moran x reader #mtp sebastian moran x reader #ynm james bond x reader #ynm sebastian moran x reader

[hanafubukki]

His Home

Summary: What home means to William James Moriarty.

Pairings and Characters: William James Moriarty X Reader; Louis, Albert, Fred, Sebastian, Bond, Jack, Sherlock, and John.  

Notes: I missed these characters, so I wanted to write about them again. Also rewatching the anime, and the moments with Louis just hits me in the feels. ☺️🥺🌺

·      Home to William James Moriarty was the simple enjoyment he found in everyday life.

·      The joy that he found from the teas and omelets that his brother, Louis, made him.

·      It was the stories and the drinks William shared with his brother, Albert.

·      It was the chaos that Sebastian brought to the family as he and Bond got into their spats.

·      It was the freshly placed flowers that Fred would place in the living room after he tended to the garden.

·      It was as Bond would advise them on proper skincare techniques.

·      It was the way Jack would still clean up after them even though he didn’t need to.

·      It was the way Sherlock would be his loud self despite the people around him.

·      The way John would be exasperated with his partner.

·      And…

·      It was in the way you smiled at him, and the way he could imagine a life with you.

·      Home to William James Moriarty was the one he made with his family.  

Williams feels are as strong as ever. 🌺🌸

#William James Moriarty x reader #yuukoku No Moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukuko no moriarty #yuukuko no Moriarty x reader #Moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot #louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty #Sebastian moran #fred porlock #James Bond/Irene Adler #jack rayfield #Moriarty the patriot Sherlock holmes #mtp sherlock #mtp x reader #ynm x reader #ynm william #ynm William x reader #ynm sherlock #ynm john

[wizardfrog69]

୨⎯ "dates with the Moriarty the patriot characters" ⎯୧

Omg my creativity hit its peek with the title

I still need to pick something for the pictures I have here so if someone has any ideas that will be great, thanks!

Feat. William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, Hudson, James, Sebastian, Mycroft

William James Moriarty:

Library dates

Or just sitting together drinking tea and enjoying each others company

He would have more classy dates than spontaneous one's

He prefers to have planned dates than ones out of the blue

Louis James Moriarty:

I think he would be the type to have a nice picnic or to go to a park date

Idk why something to do with outside

He would like to be somewhere private, calm, relaxing

Somewhere where he can just enjoy the company of his lover in peace away from the chaos which surrounds his life

Albert James Moriarty:

He would like to show you off more

Even if you are a guy (being gay was illegal back then) he would still like to show you off somehow

(For the sake of this being magically is legal now)

He enjoys dinner dates in fancy restaurants or cafes

He wants you to enjoy yourself

Sherlock Holmes:

A crime scene date 😍

Time to solve a murder! 🥰

But in all seriousness

What am I talking about! I'm never serious

Anyway

He would enjoy midnight walks

And just blabbering to his s/o about whatever is on his mind

Miss Hudson:

Counting up the debt Holmes has built up for not paying his rent

Eemmmm.....

Idk she gives off like cafe or bar vibes

They don't really talk about her enough for me to know enough about her

And I don't have enough time to watch the sherlock Holmes movies or read the books

I rather read the books first then watch the movies tho

James Bond:

Would like to do things together

Anything really

If its spending time with you then it's the best he's been on

Sebastian Moran:

Bar dates

Just I'm running out of ideas

There are only like 5 characters here tho 🥲

Nvm I'm writing 8 this time

Mycroft Holmes:

Something safisticated

I was trying to spell sophisticated but it's the wrong word anyway

Listening to classical music while smoking and reading the news paper or something

I have 2 candles lit in my room and I think that they'll set fire to the house soon

Can you guys tell that English isn't my first language? Just wandering

It's midnight and I should sleep

Well ig that's enough for my random ass rant

Good night/day

#william james moriarty #louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty #sherlock holmes mtp #miss hudson #james bond #sebastian moran #mycroft holmes #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #mtp x reader #mtp #moriarty brothers #holmes brothers #ynm sherlock #ynm #yuukokunomoriarty #yuukuko no moriarty #ynm x reader

[tinkerleaf]

Housework

So this little fic was something I wrote in like 2021 with the help of Dreamily, but I loved it too much not to share. I love MtP and had to put something on my blog for it. I also didn't mean to make Moran sound dumb lol. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ Synopsis: Moran can't stand to do chores, and Louis can't stand him. The reader tries to save the day. gn reader Pairings: Sebastian Moran/reader/a little bit of everybody Words: 830 Genre: fluff? comedy? lighthearted Warnings: none that I can think of.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Sebastian was truly a ditz when it came to chores. You had caught Louis scolding him for not helping around with the housework numerous times and couldn’t help but laugh.

Louis was very strict in his expectations and how he ran things, but it made you so happy to know that Sebastian was attempting to do his chores for once.

Normally, he asked Fred or you to do them, which you hated. Especially when you have your own things to do.

But this time? This time, you felt bad about telling him off. As for Louis? He was ecstatic.

You went inside William’s office to pick up some needed papers to finish writing up for his next mission. Unsurprisingly, you found him asleep upon opening the door. He typically fell asleep in strange places all the time due to exhaustion, and you really couldn’t blame him. You could see how often William had been working recently, so it made sense for him to find refuge in such a quiet room. You didn't dare wake him.

However, what did wake him was the sound of glass breaking from downstairs. He jolted awake and was almost startled seeing you there in front of his desk. You two maintained eye contact briefly before he finally spoke, “What was that noise?”

You sighed, “I’m not sure, but if I were to guess, Sebastian dropped another frame.”

He stared at you for another moment giving you a small smile, “Never a dull moment in this house, is there?”

“Not really, no.”

With that said, he got up and left the room as you followed suit. You went through the hallway and down the steps leading to the foyer. Sebastian was standing near the staircase looking down at Louis with fear in his eyes. His hands were above his head and guilt was written all over his face.

Looking down beside the two, you saw the shattered picture frame dispersed on the floor. You rolled your eyes, “You know, I didn’t want to be correct.”

Sebastian whipped around to look at you, “It was an accident! Honest! Louis told me to dust the frames and I did!” He lowered a hand to the back of his neck, “And then it fell…”

Louis stepped forward, “Well, you can't put it back together, right?” He looked directly at Sebastian and then at you, “You can't always ask one of us to fix your problem. We don’t care how it happened. You need to clean the mess, Moran! It’s a simple task.”

“Fine, fine.” The large man muttered before stepping back towards the closet.

You sighed and began to walk away from the scene when Louis stopped you. “Wait! Come here for a second.” You followed him to the kitchen. When you both were inside, he closed the door and turned to you. “I cannot take this anymore.” He pushed his glasses back.

Rather than responding, you simply nodded.

“He does this every time I ask him to do something.” He took out his handkerchief and dabbed it across his forehead. “He does this for attention, you know? But it’s never enough.”

You heard the closet door reopen.

His eyebrows furrowed and sighed, “Please…” He put a hand on your shoulder, “Do something about that stupid man.”

You gave him a nod before heading back to find Sebastian sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” You asked annoyed.

He turned to look at you, “Oh!” Before he could say anything else, you crossed your arms and glared at him. He stood up and began picking up the pieces of the frame.

Once they were all gone, you shook your head. “Do I have to watch over you all the time to make sure you do what you’re supposed to do? I only hope you’re not like this on missions.”

He snapped his head up, “No! Of course not!”

“Then why are you letting this go on?”

“Because I hate it when he tells me what to do…and it’s fun to watch him get pissy over little things.”

You scoffed, “There’s no way that’s it.”

“And why not?”

“Because that’s stupid!”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “I thought you were on my side.”

“I’m not on anyone’s side! It’s just,” you paused. “Look, just try to make it less obvious that you’re making fun of him. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s stressed enough as it is. And stop throwing your chores to Fred!”

“Fred doesn’t mind.”

“That doesn’t make it right! Stop it!”

He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I understand.”

“Alright. Now let’s get back to work.”

The rest of the night passed without any further incidents, though Sebastian did drop a wine glass or two while Louis was gone.

As you were putting away the dishes after dinner, you heard a loud crash coming from upstairs, followed by yelling.

‘Damnit.”

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[rosesrflo]

Hi dear! I saw that one of the annons requested Sebastian, Sherlock, William and Louis how would they react to seeing y/n in a lingerie. So, I wanted to request how would Albert react seeing y/n wearing a lingerie 👀

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Feats; Albert James Moriarty x f!reader (MTP). Genre; NSFW

Prompt; ❛❛Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.❞ Warnings; a bit handsy but not smut

Desc; IN WHICH Albert takes you out to spoil you with gifts, one of them being lingerie; what was once a harmless shopping spree will eventually turn into something more..heated.

A/N; Hi! I’m sorry this took ages to write up, I’ve been caught up in a lot of work and stuff recently, writing sexual themes isn’t my forte either (I actually struggle with it a lot) but I hope you enjoy! 💌

As we all know, Albert is 99.9% sugar daddy.

He will spoil the shii out of you if you’re someone he holds dear.

Luckily for you, you’re one of them, aside his brothers of course:

But you’re special, if you ask him to buy one outfit, he’ll buy the entire store - you liked that specific meal? He brought the restaurant. He’s just that rich and that dedicated to you.

He would do anything you asked of him.

You hypnotized him with your personality, your habits and gorgeous looks. Every sultry smirk, fluttering eyes and teasing touches gets him riled up real fast.

In addition to this, he also loves to dress you up.

Albert will take you to the best of tailors, he’d spend hours upon hours watching you twirl and pose in pretty outfits specifically made for his eyes and his eyes only.

Your skin on display, the clothing only a decoration, an accompaniment to the real beauty. You, your body. He’ll place you on a figurative pedestal once he catches a glimpse of you in lingerie.

God who? All Albert knows now is (y/n) (l/n).

It was actually originally his idea for you to wear it, he just wasn’t prepared enough to face your gorgeousness, is literally blown away.

You’re a goddess in his eyes, but watch out - he’s been eyeing you for a while now and I bet he’s ready to take a taste of you…

“Albert! Please don’t be so rude to the tailors, they’re the ones fitting our outfits, you know?” You lightly scolded your lover for shooing the tailor out after quote on quote ‘eyeing you for too long.’ In other words, he had threatened to fire the tailor whilst pulling your lingerie clad body close to his.

Your words seemed to go into one ear and pass out the other, he didn’t so much as blink. Emerald hues flickered up and down your figure, his mouth was parted slightly and his hands seemed to tighten on your hips. It took a while until you realised the exact position you were in, and how hungry Albert looked.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you swatted away his excuses, “No excuses mister-“

“(y/n).”

He spoke your name like you were a celestial being, honey slithered into his tone, successfully masking his silver tongue. “-Apologise this instance, the poor man looked petrified-“

“(y/n).”

Albert clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in amusement, you continued to disregard him, “-He probably has a family, if he loses his job, he won’t be able to-“ The brunette pursed his lips, softly yet firmly forced you to look him in the eye - using his thumb and index finger, hooking under your chin and raising it.

“(y/n).”

The rant weakened, eventually trailing off the longer you gazed into his vixen guise, “..Yes.?” And just like that, your five senses heightened painfully; you couldn’t see past Albert’s handsome features, you were so close to him you could smell a whiff of expensive cologne, his voice rang smoothly in your ears and you grew aware of his hands roaming your body.

As for taste, well you’d have hoped you would get a bite soon enough.

“You look…entrancing in that outfit.” True to his word, Albert was absolutely captivated.

You giggled at his faltering voice, lifting your head to press a slow kiss on his neck, “You’re not all that bad yourself, sir.” Albert quietly groaned upon hearing your suggestive tone, cornering you against the nearest wall of the changing room. He slid a knee just below your groin.

His mouth found yours, catching you in a heated make out session, the pads of his fingertips pressed on your waist-

“Uh-C-Count Moriarty..? Are you finished in there yet?”

The tailor called out the two of you, breaking you apart along with the sensual mood. Crouching under his arm and making your great escape, you began putting a more mature outfit on - Albert yelled back a frustrated confirmation.

You almost burst out laughing at his face, “Let’s finish this off at home, shall we?”

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